It’s almost over, folks. While the turkeys are skittering around looking for hiding places, we know that soon — very soon — phase one of our twenty-first century “long national nightmare” will be over. Thank you, God, for that. But no matter how the election turns out, our many wounds will take time and attitude adjustments, before effective healing can take place or certainly before any of the promises of national salvation can even begin to come to fruition. It will be a time for serious auxiliary leadership to emerge with a plan to bring us together.
And for all the jabs we’ve sustained and the dire attributions of the diminished power of the United States on the world scene, we can still lay claim to our “greatness.” Thankful, we can be, every day, that we are not living in any of the many war ravaged countries that can no longer sustain its people. Thankful, we can be, every day, that our constitution guarantees that we can witness a regime change without bloodshed.(we hope) Thankful we can be, as we stare at that half empty glass, yet we are able to see its half fullness. And thankful we can be, for anyone and anything that can still make us laugh – no matter what.
AND THANKFUL INDEED — for our sense of touch when offered by a friend or loved one to soothe a painful body or heart, for water, still running and available at the turn of a faucet, (we are praying for you, Flint) for the sight of a wild sunflower, a palm tree, an orange grove, a full moon and our Florida sun (when it is not hiding) and its sometimes frothing, sometimes calm but still, always there, (so far) ocean, and for mountains and summits beyond Florida and sources of transportation to get to all the “beyonds”– for a school yard of screaming kids and for loving grandparents still trying to learn to text – for old photographs borne of film (what’s that?) that remind us of the good old days, and for our freedom to respond with a polite ”no, thanks” as needed – for the good people who show up to help during disasters and the good people who just show up – for the people devoted to all the “cures” of body, mind and soul and the sounds of music in private places and acoustical buildings and in outdoor venues soaring into the airways and lifting our spirits, that in some cases, inspire our dancing feet, for poetry, good and bad, for storytellers and painters with words and brushes and on stages, for people who run things and make things and repair things and imagine new things and offer new ideas – and for people who protect us and our things and for the lives of people no longer here but whose legacy make our own lives meaningful. Grateful we are too for the mistakes we’ve made from which we have learned many a valuable lesson, and for the freedom to make more of them without having to live in fear, for the off-button on remote controls, and for broccoli, kale, smoothies and chocolate .
And oh so grateful for humility, forgiveness, choice and hope.
HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ALL – add your own gratitudes – and keep them in mind all year.