I'm grateful that Aunt Barb wasn't focused on Shawn and his Molson.

You guys it’s ridiculous, it really is. I’ve had a post that I’ve been working on, for say, two months now, and it just hangs here in WordPress mocking my laziness and procrastination. And really, it’s not laziness, as much as it is my own judgment of my material. Is it funny or interesting? Does anyone but me care? DO I EVEN CARE ABOUT WHAT I’M WRITING ABOUT?!?

Well, for about 30 minutes last night I thought our hot water heater had gone kaput. As I was doing the dishes while my husband finished watching his basketball game, I noticed the water wasn’t quite as hot as I had thought it should be, and we’ve had other issues lately. I decided to wait until the game was over to mention this to him, as to keep him from running outside of our home and into oncoming traffic out on our street just for the insurance money. Fast forward to thirty minutes later, and we discovered it was fine – a false alarm. My relief was palpable, and then it turned to straight up gratitude that the hot water heater bullet (at least) had been dodged for now. Which begs the obvious question, why am I not constantly grateful! Well, I am, as a matter of fact. I FUCKING AM.

When you find yourself writhing on a bathroom floor while administering an enema TO YOURSELF because of a failing liver, I guarantee you’ll be grateful every day after if you indeed survive it. I SWEAR TO YOU. It’s not like childbirth where you temporarily “forget” what you went through when you see your child. NO, IT IS NOT LIKE THAT AT ALL. You do NOT forget that pain, you see, because it started on THE INSIDE, and then over time it descended upon and ultimately tried to destroy my liver. It almost succeeded. And like the above image states, my gratitude is not grandiose. Small things are the best. A soft heated blanket. A big-ass burrito. My favorite coffee with whipped cream on the top. Knitting anything. A walk along the river. Simple things, mostly…but not always.

The other day I ran into our old business partner. This is someone that I did not care to work with, and we had our share of complications, headaches, and terrible arguments. Looking back now, I realize that I placed a lot of blame solely on him, instead of owning my part in the wreckage. Don’t get me wrong, I spent hours seething in justified anger towards this man, but what did that solve? Regardless, we haven’t crossed paths since going our separate ways, a few years ago. I spotted him from a distance and could have easily avoided making any contact whatsoever, but before I knew it, my feet were sprinting straight for him and I was shouting his name to get his attention, just to say hello.


A grateful recovering alcoholic, evidently. This is IT, y’all. If you’re grateful and forgiving, well, you’re just a LIGHTER human being. Trust me, part of the best part of this story was the look on his face when he spun around to greet me. He was gracious and kind as well, but I’d swear it was surprise, with a smidge of bewilderment that I recognized on his face, initially. We parted with smiles and warm holiday wishes.

I’m grateful all the time, really. Although, being human does afford me an onslaught of emotions at any given time and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’ve attended my own pity party or two, here and there. I’m grateful for the big and the small, and that’s the best part. I can see the big picture much more clearly these days (for the most part) and yet, appreciating the little things mean all the more now. I hope I never lose sight of that. Alcoholism is a terrific reminder of letting you know how close you came to losing everything.

Oh, and this morning? My husband’s car stopped in the middle of the road motionless, and it refused to start up again. The mechanic just called and suggested that we contact Santa at the North Pole and update our Christmas list.

And just like that, life keeps on.


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