The house is full of chatter as I write this Tuesday afternoon.
My great nephew is video chatting with his school friends in the living room nearby. My wife and her mother are making a pumpkin pie from scratch in the kitchen. The kids who live in the apartment over us sound like they might be bowling or boulder tossing. My mom can’t find her TV remote. And I have to tell you, I love it all because I’m in the center of life during the holidays.
After being unmarried for 58 years, how else does one put into words how it feels to get married and enter such a life after being alone for so long? I certainly didn’t expect it. The scripture says he who finds a wife finds a good thing. I believe that more every day.
Of course, I moved this year too. I love our apartment in the woods so much. It’s a rare day when I don’t see wildlife outside the sliding door of my office. The other day, my wife and I just stood and watched seven or eight deer walk by, foraging what’s left of the greenery. It’s so relaxing.
My mom, who lives with us, is 89 and is having a difficult time getting around, but she’s happy. And I’m thankful beyond measure for each day she is with us.
My mother-in-law, who also lives with us, enjoys family meals. One evening this weekend, we sat out on our deck and broke bread while talking about church life and all the complications that come with it. I hope she feels like it brought us all closer together.
My 16-year-old beloved cat, Latte, has been struggling with her health recently. A couple of weeks ago, I thought I was going to lose her. She’s been with me for 15 years and saw me through some lonely times. When I told a friend about her declining health, he asked if I believed animals go to heaven.
“I didn’t used to, but I do know the scriptures say the lion will lie down with the lamb at some point,” I said.
He encouraged me to believe I would see her again after she passes. I found his words to be so kind. Latte has since rallied and has regained her appetite. So maybe, just maybe, she’ll be with us for a while longer. And I’m thankful for that too.
Speaking of friendships, a group of six of us got together recently for a friend’s birthday. We enjoyed a good steak, a discussion of world events, retirement and health issues. What’s a get-together among sixty-year-olds without a good conversation about politics, Social Security and step counts?
We asked our waiter to take a picture of us, and later, one of our wives noticed that a man in the background photobombed us. The photo was already a keepsake. The photobomb makes it even more amazing.
There’s more going on behind the scenes, and some of it is pretty heavy. But when I look around at this particular Thanksgiving – at my wife, at my noisy great nephew, at my mom who is still with us, at Latte rallying, at friends who celebrate life together – I’m learning that gratitude doesn’t mean everything is fine. It means recognizing what’s good even when everything isn’t.
