Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. There is nothing better than eating delicious food with your loved ones close by your side. Unfortunately, this Thanksgiving has been tinged by some bad news. My Uncle D. had a stroke on Thanksgiving day and is in the hospital. He and my Aunt J celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary this past August. Me and my little family went to the party at their house right as I started taking the Zoloft for PPD. I was still in the throes of death obsession and seeing all my relatives who have suddenly gotten very old was not very comforting to say the least.
I remember when I came home for Christmas for the first time since I had left for boot camp the previous July. I was startled to see how much my Mom and Dad had aged. When you see them every day you aren't really struck by the difference. But not seeing them for 6 months made the comparison more significant. Whenever I think of these things I am struck by lyrics from one of my favorite Bonnie Raitt Songs entitled Nick of Time:
I see my folks, they're getting old, I watch their bodies change...
I know they see the same in me, And it makes us both feel strange...
No matter how you tell yourself, It's what we all go through...
Those lines are pretty hard to take when they're staring' back at you.
Scared you'll run out of time.
When I was in college the mother of one of my instructors died. She said the worst part for her was the realization that there was now no one "above" her generationally. I think about that a lot too, remembering when I was a child how far away being old seemed. How safe it was knowing that there were older people above you looking out for you and your well being. Eventually, you become the oldest and that realization is startling and scary.
I don't believe in blessings. The word implies that people are bequeathed something wonderful and significant due to no work of their own part. I have begun to believe that my life is truly what I have made it because of the choices I made and path I have chosen. The other things that have helped me...where I was born, who I was born to, etc. are all just dumb luck.
Life is impermanent. What I have learned from PPD that life can not only be terribly scary but also excruciatingly beautiful. Experiencing the lows can only make you appreciate the breathless heights even more. They are not mutually exclusive. Without the terrible things you cannot have the wonderful. Without death you cannot have life.
I am thankful for
my daughter's soft hair that sticks straight up when washed
my son's dark eyes
my husband's warm arms holding me to him
my daughter's hand exploring my face as she nurses
my son's exuberance in all things
the softness of my daughter's skin
my husband's feet touching mine when I get back in bed at night after tending to the baby
Blessing implies that things once bestowed can also just as easily be taken away. I am not blessed with the things I am thankful for. And for that, I am thankful.