The One About Being Thankful

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.  It's not because of the food, though I love a good meal.  It's not because of the parades or the football games, which I never watch.  It's certainly not because I'm anticipating Black Friday; I couldn't care less about that.  I love Thanksgiving because it's a day of giving thanks.  I love it because I always spend it with my family.  I love it because I have so much to be thankful for.

This Thanksgiving was bittersweet.  I spent it with my parents and grandparents.  It was my grandmother's last Thanksgiving.  This fact never strayed far from the surface. Thanksgiving almost didn't happen at all when she spent her morning in the hospital after a night of relentless nosebleeds.  The nosebleeds were caused by the oxygen; the oxygen is there because of the cancer.  Cancer is consuming the body of a woman I love more than anything.  This fact never strayed far from the surface, either.

So how do we celebrate when facing the inevitable?  We celebrate like we always do: with family, and food, and gratitude.  We sit at the dining room table -- my grandparents side by side in their wheelchairs, each of their bodies growing weaker and more frail -- and we eat food and we give thanks.  It's as simple as that; it's why I've always loved this holiday.

I'm thankful I was able to spend the day with a woman who means more to me than I could ever express in words.  I'm thankful I was able to serve food on her plate, and to hold her hand, and to let her know she means everything to me.  I'm thankful my grandpa was having a clear day, speaking in full sentences and remembering everyone's name.  I'm thankful I was able to sit in that living room again, as I have for every Thanksgiving for the last three or four years.  Soon, at my grandmother's request, we'll move all the furniture and close up the apartment.  Soon, this place will be gone.  Today, I'm thankful it's still here.

I'm thankful for extraordinary friends whose love, kindness and support has guided me through my days recently.  For every text message and phone call and letter and email and package, I am so grateful.  That I have friends who listen, and who let me cry, and who tell me that it's okay to feel exactly how I feel, is a tremendous gift.  I am loved fiercely and I love fiercely in return.

I'm thankful for sweet parents, for a kind sister and brother-in-law, for funny cousins and patient aunts and strong uncles.  I'm thankful for the innocence of my niece and nephew.  I'm thankful for the wisdom of my grandparents -- and I'm especially grateful that at almost thirty years of age, I still have three grandparents with me.

I'm thankful for a new job at a retirement home.  I've seen firsthand how vulnerable those final years are. These wonderful, incredible people who know more than I ever will find themselves in need of assistance from others, at the mercy of others.  It would kill me if anyone ever treated my grandparents with anything less than unconditional love and kindness.  I'm honored in my new position to treat other people's parents and grandparents the way they deserve to be treated.

I'm thankful that between two part-time jobs, I work full-time hours that pay on regular schedules, unlike the freelance work I've been doing for the last five years.  I'm thankful for a steady income, small as it may be.  I'm thankful to be able to do my writing on my own and not have to depend on it to pay my bills.

I'm thankful for the kindness of others.  I've encountered so many happy people who brought me joy, and strong people who brought me inspiration.  Mostly I've encountered kind, thoughtful people who have overwhelmed me with their capacity for compassion.

And that tiny handful of people who've treated me poorly in the last few years?  I'm thankful for them, too.  They've taught me so much about humanity and friendship -- about what to expect out of myself and others.  My life is stronger and richer because of the amazing, thoughtful people in it.