Day 302 - Giving Thanks

Image by Celestine Chua, via Flickr.com

Thanksgiving should be more than just a day, so I'll continue with my thoughts on why it is important to give thanks even for events, misfortunes, and gifts I would rather not have received.

When Mom died, it was so sudden we had no time to prepare. On our first evening home from the hospital, I saw Dad standing at the kitchen sink with his face in his hands crying. When he realized I was in the room, he picked up something from the sink and turned around. Holding some orange peels in his hand, he said he had always left them in the sink for Mom to put down the disposal because he knew she liked the aroma. But he never told her that's why he left them. He said he hoped she didn't think he was just being lazy.

And that was a gift from Dad I will always treasure - the reminder that the reason someone acts one way or another may not be what we are often so quick to assume. I try to assume the best of everyone, even when it is difficult, like this week when my account at work, along with those of 2,300 others, was deleted, leaving me with time to work, but no access. Instead of ranting about how someone could have been so careless, I've tried to think about how that person feels, if the action was in fact initiated by a person. And I've been silently thanking all those technicians who had to develop a plan to get us all back in business again. I used the two days I had no connection to do research on problems that never seemed to get to the top of my to-do list, something worth some thanks.

When Alex asks me the same question for the 50th time, I remember that he uses questions and conversation as a way to connect with people around him. It isn't necessarily that he needs the answer to the question or that he has forgotten the answer I gave him last time. It is that he wants to have a conversation to express his connection with me, with his brother, with his son, and with colleagues he has worked with all over the world. He badgers me to call my sister, sister-in-law, and brothers more often and I try not to respond with annoyance at his not so gentle reminders. He has only one brother so I sometimes think it is easier for him. But he reminds me that he only has one brother so he must cherish his connection with him, while I have my sister, my three remaining brothers, and my sister-in-law, so it should be easy for me to pick up the phone and call one of them each day. We grew up when telephone calls were for communicating an important message, not just for keeping touch. That means I sometimes get hung up on not having anything important to say. Then I remember that just as he uses questions and answers to express a connection, he uses telephone calls for the same purpose. And he thinks I should, too.

Then there was Mom's last gift to us kids, the time and opportunity to get to know Dad because she was no longer there to be his translator and intermediary. In the last months of Dad's life, I especially enjoyed his sense of humor, something I saw often when I was much younger, when there weren't six kids to have to take care of. If Mom had survived Dad, I don't think I would have gotten so close to Dad, I wouldn't have told him as often how much I loved him and thanked him for all he did to provide all of us with the best upbringing I can imaging. And it was easier to tell Mom I loved her, so I know she heard it often from me.

I believe that saying Thank you each day makes it easier to find things to be thankful for.

So thank you for reading my thoughts today.