Gratitude

Today is Thanksgiving, and I am on a plane.  I left one daughter in Florida and am flying home to see another daughter who has traveled from Vermont to see me.  My son is in California.  There is no Thanksgiving dinner.  No large family gathering with too much food and drink.  No grace before dinner, no stuffing, no mashed potatoes, no choosing between apple and pumpkin pie.  No cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the leftovers.  There are no leftovers.

Nonetheless, it is a day to feel and express one's gratitude, so in keeping with tradition, I will do my best here.

I am thankful that I am not the mother of the screaming child across the aisle, and I am thankful that I am not married to the man who is not doing a thing to help her with their two children.  I am thankful that my flight was delayed only an hour and not several, and I am thankful that, unlike yesterday, the skies are clear for air traffic.  I am thankful that I brought an avocado sandwich with me and I am thankful that I can buy a glass of wine to feel a little more festive.  I am thankful that I have a good book with me.

I am thankful that my daughter called to tell me she is always sad when I leave her.  I am thankful that my other daughter is making the long drive to the airport to get me and will have a warm coat for me to wear.  I am thankful that the roads are clear.  I am thankful that my son has a Zombie Thanksgiving Feast to attend with friends in California and that he texted me to call him when my plane lands.

I am thankful that I have things to be thankful for.  I have three kind, smart, talented, beautiful, adventurous, and responsible children.  I have a warm and beautiful log home (built by my husband) to return to.  I have a cat who will yell at me when I greet her because she gets upset when I leave her.  I have enough, and I have more than enough.

My Thanksgiving might not be happy, but it reminds me to be grateful.  I am in love with what I have.