There is much I am thankful for, bowing low and whispering a prayer of gratitude for the miracles that I have been witness to. And also pausing at the sight of a little girl curled up in her reading chair, tiny tubes of toothpaste on my sink, miniature headbands strewn around the living room, three pairs of shoes, big, small, smallest, lined up by the front door.
A man sized tennis racket lying next to it’s toddler sized duplicate. Christmas ornaments emblazoned with my daughter’s name. Leftover pasta on the stove, a signature dish of a man who slipped a ring and a promise on my finger six years ago.
Half empty books of stamps discarded from thank-you cards en route to the blessings in our lives that take the form of friends and family. The sound of tradition floating through the speakers as a parade marches across the television screen. Leads from an apnea monitor dangling from their corkboard tack, an ever present reminder to breathe out thanksgiving for every single heartbeat.
“You have turned my mourning into dancing for me; You have put off my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, To the end that my tongue and my heart and everything glorious within me may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.” (Psalm 30:11-12)
