I Am Thankful

Each year, as Thanksgiving sneaks up on us, I take time to reflect on my blessings.  If you’ll indulge me, I’ll do it here this year.

~ My deep gratitude that I was born an American.  My family is not descended from the original Americans, but we got here as fast as we could.  As an American, I have been afforded luxuries that many throughout this world have not.  The German lived through WWII, lived through a tyranny that still shadows her, and was fond of reminding her children that we won the best-place-to-be-born lottery.  That I was born a Texan to a German mother and New Yorker father, is the sweetest icing on the delicious cake that I can imagine.

~ My deep faith.  Somewhere in my bones are the lingering remnants of being in the presence of my dear Father in Heaven, telling Him that I would see Him again as I slipped from that life into this.  When I’m overwhelmed by that which is important here, I try to remember that this world is not my home; I am but a sojourner.

~ My family.  My thankfulness where they are concerned is without measure.  They are my light; they are my heart.  I have often said that I am blessed beyond what I deserve in this life and I stand by that statement.  I am but a small insignificant spec, yet somehow these amazing beings are my people.  It’s one of the mysteries of my life.

~ Your generosity.  Yes!  YOU!  I started this site, put my toe in the water, last January and have been humbled by your thoughtful comments, your willingness to hang out with me, and your generosity to share with others.  Y’all pretty much rock and I wish I could make/eat cake with each one of you!

~ The Internet.  I’m old enough to remember the days of looking up info in books (THE HORROR!), but before you could do that you had to schlep to the library and hunt for what you needed, hoping the book was still on the shelf.  If not, you put in a request and waited.  The Internet is infinity better.  If you’re so young that this seems like a bad dream, perhaps this one makes your thankful list, too.

~ Food Porn.  The German just rolled her eyes at my lack of discretion.  OMGOSH, how I LOVE pics of food to drool over and fantasize about making.

~ Technology*.  Smart phones.  Texting.  Skype.  Dongles.  YouTube.  NetFlix.  Blue Tooth.  Appliances that talk to each other.  Nanotechnology.  LOVE. IT. ALL. (*NSA crap excluded)

~ Good Health.  Yep.  I’m at the age where good health is valued over gold.  I has it.  Good health.  Not gold, so don’t come over and start digging up my yard.

~ Tamales.  Listen, once the Thanksgiving meal has ended, but before the pie has been served, South Texans start plotting where and how they’ll buy their Christmas tamales.  It’s a thang here.  A big thing.  Long lines out the door at some places, thang.  But totally worth the effort.

~ Sweet E.  Dat baby has added fireworks, ridiculous voices and jazz hands to our lives.  That we get to celebrate his first Christmas with him = fireworks/ridiculous voices/jazzhands.  Yes, I know he technically falls under the family umbrella of thanks, but he’s worth his own entry.  Trust.

~ Online Banking.  Seriously, this is a time-saver, right?  I still haven’t loaded the app that lets me scan a check for deposit, but for what I do online it’s pretty revolutionary.

~ Online friends that have become family.  Most astounding fact I’d never believe to be true if I wasn’t actually living it.

~ Smoked Paprika.  My new and much loved go-to spice of 2013.  Haven’t tried it?  WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!

~ Colored Sharpies.  If I have to explain it, then you still wouldn’t understand.

~ No one in my family twerks.  I’ll pray for you, if you are kin to a twerker.  Grandma!  Leave the fridge alone!

~ Blurred Lines.  This may produce a spat of “unsubcribed” notices, but that song has given me more reasons to dance this summer than any in recent history.

~ Our freedom and those who protect it.  May it reign forever, may good men and women defend it at every turn, and thank you for your service!

Your turn!  Tell us what you’re thankful for.

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