The art of giving thanks; a rant of sorts.

Some people are born genuinely grateful. They say thanks at every given opportunity; at the grocery store checkout or to the toll booth matron. They send notes in the mail. Frilly words underlined and riddled with exclamation points. They shake your hand and hug your neck. Their spirit of gratitude uplifts you and makes you feel special, even if it is only for a brief moment. Like a masterpiece centered on the gallery wall of life it demands your respect and perhaps, at times, it takes your breath away. It is an art form some of us have thrown away, most likely in the form of hoarding; the stowing away of bitterness and resentment, hanging there on the pride-erected sculpture of self. Me, well, I am usually somewhere between light and shadow- that place where the lines are clearly defined.

Today I have struggled with being thankful. Trust me, I went by the Christian playbook and counted my blessings- all of which are gifts from the Most High God, all for which I am thankful. On Thanksgiving Day I played my part in the act of giving thanks by gorging on food (still not sure about this practice) and spending time with my family. But at the end of the day, I am still sad. I am still longing. The brat in me won't shut up. I want what I want- and well, I am not getting what I want. I am spiritually kicking and screaming with my fists to the floor. I want my sons home. The likelihood is that they won't be here any time soon. And I am not thankful about that. There I said it.

We have a little saying around here, "You get whatcha get and ya don't throw a fit". Maybe not the best slogan for the thankfulness campaign but nevertheless quite catchy to say. And so that's where I am for now...trying not to pitch a fit. Trying to relax. It doesn't help that our usual tradition of decorating the Christmas tree on the Sunday eve after Thanksgiving has pretty much been nixed due to illumination difficulties with our pre-lit supposedly stress-free tree. I have spent hours trying to make it work- all for naught. I would reside to "bag the tree idea" if not for three precious souls longing to hang their new ornaments on it that their Nana gave them.

So, contrary to my inner brat, I will conclude this post with a simple, "thanks".