A Daily Thanksgiving

I sit alone, undisturbed. Solitude. A holiday dinner for one. Reflecting on the years gone by and in particular the one most recent. The thanks I should give with my premeal prayer. How boorish. Thanks but once a year? Should I not be thankful year round? Yet, I lower myself to meld with tradition. The tangible; the indefinable.

My relationship with my God has been tumultuous to say the least. My Creator, yet I challenge Him as He tests me. “Why, the pain and suffering of the world”, I shout? “Why, can you not trust in Me”, He whispers? Yet, He brings me comfort in time of need.

My daughter. The apple of my eye. A worn out cliché, but the only way I can describe her. She has grown into a mature, responsible young woman. When she was sixteen, she felt that I didn’t really know a lot. At twenty-four, she shows up at my work place to tell me about her latest love or calls me at night to ask me about the intricacies of the preparation of a meatloaf.

My son, a strapping young lad approaching his late teens, towers above me. A cocky dude with a temperament and an impatience much like his grandpa and dad, ex-cops, for the frail indecisive individual. He secretly eagerly awaits, if dad is still around, the promise I made him to celebrate his twenty-first birthday with my knocking him on his ass. The act as a right of passage to instill in him a sense of humility to carry him through life. He never read page three on the Handbook of Life. Knowing I would need some form of advantage, I didn’t teach him everything.

I met new friends along the way; I lost a few. Each unique in their own way. Each leaving an indelible mark on my soul. Certainly, I have regrets and in retrospect concede that I made some Neanderthalic blunders, but dwelling on the past is futile.

The brave men and women who risk their lives on a daily basis. Military, police, firefighters and paramedics. While they grumble about their duties, they never shirk the responsibilities.

Another successful surgery. No problems at the annual physical. I can breathe, see, walk, talk and think. My psychotic cat still meets me at the door.

The Truth Is…..I give thanks each and every day. Amen