Today I'm grateful for the proportion of good things to bad things in my life.
So, once upon a time, when I was 16, it occurred to me that I'd never lost anyone. Other people around me had lost parents or siblings or grandparents they adored, and since I was old enough to really understand it, the only person I'd lost was my unborn little sister. Now, granted, that one hurt intensely, but 8 years later, I could remember how hard I cried, but not how the pain had felt. I had never been beaten, never been seriously betrayed, never really, really hurt. Oh, sure, I'd had bad days and disappointments and embarrassments and even a couple miserable, grumpy years while I tried to process becoming a teen, but no real tragedy.
At the time, being the melodramatic, story-driven teenager I was, I felt a little ripped off in the life-experiences department. I mean, how could I ever empathize properly with people who had experienced tragedy? And... well... I firmly believed that deep and awful pain was an essential part of everyone's life, so if I hadn't had it as a kid, how crappy was my adult life shaping up to be?
Shortly after that, Callia died. Callia was the horse we had had since I was... six, I believe. She was an integral part of my childhood, and my very best friend in the animal kingdom. I learned to ride on her, and when I was 15 and 16 was when I was riding her the absolute most, since I'd finally realized I was old enough to ride without supervision. Getting her to move was frustrating as all get out, but once I'd gotten her going, we would run at full speed through the whole of the farm - mostly in the yard and north pasture, but sometimes we'd go up and down the road, around to the back, out to the lake, around the corn field - I rode her wherever I could, and as often as I could convince my brother or dad to tighten the saddle for me (I might have been old enough to ride, but I wasn't strong enough to get the saddle safely attached to her girth).
When she was only about 18 years old, she got West Nile. Not a pretty way to die. It took her about a day, and I stayed with her for most of that time, my heart absolutely aching inside of me as she lost the ability to stand up, and began thrashing feverishly all over the barn floor. Earlier in the day I'd had hope that she'd recover, but about the point she thrashed and cracked her skull against the cement foundation of the barn, I knew she was dying and I had to say goodbye.
It was an interesting experience for me, and ultimately, I was grateful for it. I had to go through the process of grief that follows an intense loss, and I learned a lot about pain and healing.
Since then there have been other losses, disappointments, long periods of loneliness, mistakes, injustice, and all kinds of negative experiences.
But the good life of my childhood, ultimately, has stayed with me. I've had bad things happen, but a lot of good things have happened too. And when all is said and done, my life has been more good things than bad things. I have more happy days than sad days, and the good things are so much better than the bad ones are bad.
So that's what I'm grateful for today - a life that is more good than bad.
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Friday, November 8, 2013
November 8th
Today I am grateful for the little restaurant known as Cafe Rio. I don't even like Mexican food, and I love this place.
Thursday, November 7, 2013
November 7th
Today I'm thankful for all my favorite TV shows. Not really the movies, because unless they are Lord of the Rings extended edition, there's just not enough movie there to binge on. But TV shows... yes! Hours and hours of story. It's like a book you can watch!
No, seriously. Other than more imaginative freedom, which goes without saying, what books really have that movies don't is time. You live in a story for hours, days, weeks... however long it takes you to get through the book. A movie is over in 90 minutes in most cases. And then... well... then the story is over. Sometimes there's a sequel, but by the 4th or 5th sequel (waiting a year or two between each segment), you're done. So done. Seriously, the story has run its course.
Now, with TV shows, especially ones that have been out for a few years and you just barely discovered the series on Netflix, this is a story you can live inside for hours... days... weeks... however long it takes you to consume the entire story. And... in the best cases... for the story to consume you too.
...
And, as a bonus, I'm grateful for the number 7. Why? Well... simply because it's fun to write, especially when you write it with a slight curve and that dash through the center.
No, seriously. Other than more imaginative freedom, which goes without saying, what books really have that movies don't is time. You live in a story for hours, days, weeks... however long it takes you to get through the book. A movie is over in 90 minutes in most cases. And then... well... then the story is over. Sometimes there's a sequel, but by the 4th or 5th sequel (waiting a year or two between each segment), you're done. So done. Seriously, the story has run its course.
Now, with TV shows, especially ones that have been out for a few years and you just barely discovered the series on Netflix, this is a story you can live inside for hours... days... weeks... however long it takes you to consume the entire story. And... in the best cases... for the story to consume you too.
...
And, as a bonus, I'm grateful for the number 7. Why? Well... simply because it's fun to write, especially when you write it with a slight curve and that dash through the center.
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
November 5th
Remember, remember the fifth of November
Some line about blood and fire and stuff
And then there's another line
And there's pretty much a whole poem that I can't remember.
It's true... we all remember the 5th of November. A few of us even remember why! (Because Hugo Weaving said so while wearing a creepy mask and playing opposite a hairless Natalie Portman, of course.)
But really... there are very few of us who actually remember the words of that poem. So, remember the 5th of November, remember there's a well-made movie about it that I will probably never see again, and remember the poem exists. But never remember the poem itself.
And, in other news, today I am grateful for photography. Because I'm not patient enough to learn how to paint.
Some line about blood and fire and stuff
And then there's another line
And there's pretty much a whole poem that I can't remember.
It's true... we all remember the 5th of November. A few of us even remember why! (Because Hugo Weaving said so while wearing a creepy mask and playing opposite a hairless Natalie Portman, of course.)
But really... there are very few of us who actually remember the words of that poem. So, remember the 5th of November, remember there's a well-made movie about it that I will probably never see again, and remember the poem exists. But never remember the poem itself.
And, in other news, today I am grateful for photography. Because I'm not patient enough to learn how to paint.
Monday, November 4, 2013
November 4th
Today I am grateful for a global market, and the fact that fruit travels.
Were it not for this phenomenon, I would have to be Chinese to eat an orange. Or have visited China.
But, no. Citrus fruits are not only trucked from their original homeland, but they are now grown outside their original homeland! This has been the case for over a thousand years, but I am grateful for it nonetheless.
So, thank you people who shipped oranges out of China, and then planted them in other regions. Thank you so much.
Were it not for this phenomenon, I would have to be Chinese to eat an orange. Or have visited China.
But, no. Citrus fruits are not only trucked from their original homeland, but they are now grown outside their original homeland! This has been the case for over a thousand years, but I am grateful for it nonetheless.
So, thank you people who shipped oranges out of China, and then planted them in other regions. Thank you so much.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
November 3rd
Today I am grateful for deciduous trees.
Because it's not enough for the world to be a vibrant green all through Spring, and in some parts of the world, through Summer as well. Where I grew up, the whole world was a gorgeous emerald color from March through the first bit of October.
No, that's not enough.
In October, half the plants in the world light on fire, shooting oranges, yellows, and reds across the slowly dying forests. We're in for a long winter, and several months of browns and greys, but just as they're saying farewell, the trees go out in flames.
That's not enough either.
Those leaves hit the ground, making a carpet of pure fun. Raking, leaf piles, leaf zombie monster tag with whatever kids you can get in on the game. And after that, coming in half-frozen, curling up by the fire, and drinking hot chocolate loaded with marshmallows.
That's what I'm grateful for today.
Because it's not enough for the world to be a vibrant green all through Spring, and in some parts of the world, through Summer as well. Where I grew up, the whole world was a gorgeous emerald color from March through the first bit of October.
No, that's not enough.
In October, half the plants in the world light on fire, shooting oranges, yellows, and reds across the slowly dying forests. We're in for a long winter, and several months of browns and greys, but just as they're saying farewell, the trees go out in flames.
That's not enough either.
Those leaves hit the ground, making a carpet of pure fun. Raking, leaf piles, leaf zombie monster tag with whatever kids you can get in on the game. And after that, coming in half-frozen, curling up by the fire, and drinking hot chocolate loaded with marshmallows.
That's what I'm grateful for today.
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