At the start of what proved to be a nearly-perfect day, on Thanksgiving morning Kaleb and I snuggled in my bed for a few minutes. We talked about the Pilgrims and the Mayflower and the Native Americans and why we have Thanksgiving. He told me what he learned in school—that the Wampanoags taught the settlers how to plant corn with a fish in each hole. I mentioned that Thanksgiving is about remembering to be grateful for our blessings and he said "Oh, yeah! I forgot about that part!" so I asked him if he could tell me ten things he was grateful for.
"Ten!" he giggled. "I could tell you fifty!" He made a stab at it and got up to twelve before he grew bored and scampered off to find a brother to hang out with, but our little interaction left me thinking.
I (obviously!) didn't do a fabulous job this year of blogging my gratitudes along with the rest of the blogosphere. This isn't because I don't feel grateful, but because I wasn't feeling any sort of writing inspiration. Still, there really is so much I am grateful for, so throughout the day I kept a sort of running tally of small, specific things, experiences, or blessings I am grateful for. (I've been working on this list on and off since Thanksgiving night.) I wondered if I could accomplish what Kaleb came up with: fifty things I'm grateful for. Here's my list, in random order:
1. My husband's persistence. Sometimes this makes me insane (namely when he's using that persistence on me) but it makes our lives so much better. Once he gets going on something, he generally finds a way to make sure it gets done, whatever the "it" is.
2. Hot water. I know I am a complete baby about this, but there's almost nothing that gets me annoyed more quickly than running out of hot water. It makes me annoyed and grumpy for the rest of the day. But a few weeks ago, something even worse happened: our hot water heater stopped heating water. We've known we need to replace it soon, but were hoping to get just a few more years out of it. Who wants to pay for a water heater at Christmas? So I was throughly relieved when a friend came over to help and showed us that it was just the pilot light. (I joked with Kendell that we are now adults, since we know A—the pilot light can go out and B—how to relight it.) Since that day I have reminded myself, with every hot shower or delicious bath or even a series of pans to be washed: hot water is the modern convenience I am most grateful for.
3. My developing relationship with Haley. We've never really had a bad relationship, just sometimes not as close as I had hoped for. But lately I find myself able to joke with her in a way I haven't before. Partly this is me trying to not be so closed up, some of it is her growing up, the rest is answered prayers.
4. Jake, who is always teaching me about what it means to be the mom of a son. Perhaps one day he will understand how his arrival blesses my life, the wound it soothed and the peace he brings my heart. (Even, yes, when his rambunctiousness is making me insane!) He makes me laugh and he makes me feel loved like no one else.
5. Chocolate—and my chocolate control. I confess: I love, love, love chocolate. The darker the better. But over the past two years or so, I have mastered my chocolate cravings. (This took a lot of patience, time, prayers, and, well, chocolate eating.) I can now make a bag of chocolate last for weeks (instead of eating the whole bag in a few days). Getting ahead of the cravings means that when I do indulge, I savor and appreciate every last delicately delicious morsel.
6. My calling. At church, I teach the kids who were 14 and 15 this January. These are some good kids. Sometimes I get a little bit discouraged with what I am teaching, because I'm not sure I'm getting through, or that any of it makes sense; I'm afraid I'm boring and monotonous and, well, old. But I am grateful anyway for the teenagers I teach. They make me laugh, they make me remember how it felt to be their ages, they add a little youthful ump to my life. Plus, they sometimes surprise me with the best, most thought-provoking questions!
7. Nathan, who is my bright blue sky. He arrived with his very own light and he makes sure to share it. Everyone who knows Nathan recognizes this light—in very different ways, but without fail. I still wonder at his (my unplanned, surprise, and exceedingly welcomed) existence.
8. Kaleb's joy de vivre. To say that he is temperamental is a fairly-extreme understatement. He can go from happy to despondent—and back again—faster than anyone I know. But he carries this underlying joy that flows right out of him, as if he is still just so happy to be alive. I love this about him!
9. Running. I know I have said this a bajillion times before, but it bears repeating: I am grateful for running, and not because of its effects on my body. Well, that too. But I know that without running, I would be a far less mentally stable person than I am. It keeps me sane.
10. And this must follow: I'm grateful for a healthy body that allows me to run. I'm so grateful that my heart and my lungs and my knees and my hips and my ankles and spine and pelvis and shins and everything else it takes to get my body moving all happily work together (for the most part!). Isn't it odd...by running I am able to keep my body running. It's sort of magical! And while I believe that almost anyone can run—you just have to start and then keep going—I do know several people (including Kendell) who physically cannot. My gratitude that I still can is immense.
11. My mother's example. On Thanksgiving, I watched my mother-in-law teach my niece Hilary how to make gravy. It reminded me of one of my friends, whose mom served on Thanksgiving a rotissery chicken from the grocery store, instant mashed potatoes, and gravy made from a powder; when this friend of mine got married and had Thanksgiving at her in-laws—who served all the homemade stuff—she was in heaven at tasting real gravy. I'm so grateful for a mom who taught me how to make gravy. How to make lots of things, in fact, pizza dough and spaghetti sauce and chicken noodle stew. Fudge and caramel and chocolate chip cookies and carrot cake. And it's not the specific recipes that matter most, even, but the knowledge that the best food is always the kind you make yourself. She made me unafraid to try things in the kitchen that seem to scare other people, and I think this confidence makes it easier for me to reach out and try other new things as well.
12. The place where my dad is buried. Kendell's dad is buried in a beautiful little cemetery in Wyoming; you can see the west side of the Tetons from his gravestone. It is truly a stunning view, exactly where he wanted to be buried, but it is so far away. I wish we could visit more often! My dad is buried in the Provo Cemetery, which is about eight miles from my doorstep. Since he's been buried I've gone several times to visit his grave, some of them on a run. It is a comfort to me, even if I just stop by for a few minutes.
13. My friend Chris. We've been friends since I was 16...more than half my life has had her in it. We don't see each other as often as I would like, but the amazing thing is that when we are together, we just pick up talking again. I'm not sure there is a secret in my life that she doesn't know. The weight of shared experiences, knowledge, understanding, and lots of laughter create a warmth that my life would indeed be chilly without.
14. Photographs. I'm not sure if that's a weird thing to be grateful for, but I am. I love that with the technology we have, we can capture little slices of everything—and in that way we can remember more. It probably bugs the people who know me, but I continue to be the lady with the big camera, always taking pictures.
15. Photographs bring me right to scrapbooking. This craft is another one of those things that not many of my friends and family really get. I used to have some scrapping friends, but I'm the only person I know who still does it on a regular basis. Quite simply, combining photos and words and some pretty bits makes me undeniably happy. It is my safe, good spot to go.
16. My work with Big Picture. The cool thing about teaching online classes (as opposed to writing articles for scrapbooking magazines which I've also done) is that I get to include a ton of content. I can't tell you just how good it is to be able to share all the ideas and concepts and philosophies regarding scrapbooking that bump around in my head. The thought of helping other people tell their stories? Well, it is, again, just so good.
17. My work with Write Click Scrapbook and my friends there, too. There's a whole story to why WCS is so cool, but to keep it short it goes down to this: the scrappers there come from a realistic place. It's not about the froo-froo or the popularity or the big names but about the scrapping—the getting words down with photos. Plus there are some seriously talented women I get the chance to work with there. Many of them have become good friends and I'm so grateful to them!
18. My sister Becky. I've written about this before, even. What would I do without her? She totally gets me. The reading and the running and the writing and the quilting. (Perhaps one day I will convert her to scrapbooking, too.) We're different in many ways, too, but I think that makes things even better. We are individuals who get along. Plus, she's always got my back, even when I don't ask. A few weeks ago—a Sunday night, I think—I was having one of those random meltdowns when you just lie in bed and weep over everything. The next day, she texted me to ask if I'd been OK the night before—she'd been worried about me. Right at the time I was overreacting and hyperventilating and wondering whether I deserved to exist. Quite simply, it settles me knowing that she is there.
19. My sister Suzette. She is, also, a good example to me. She is always ready to listen to me and to give me advice, whether it's about cooking or relationships or where's the best place to buy expensive jeans. She's been through a lot of difficult things and has managed to still make a good, vibrant, strong life for herself. Plus she managed to raise four amazing daughters!
20. My sister Michelle. I don't write a lot about her because, well...her life is complicated. I don't always agree with her choices. But her example is still something my kids have learned from. Perhaps her choices will help them to avoid certain things in their lives, and for that I am grateful.
21. Education. One of my clearest memories of my dad goes like this: we're walking from the car to the football stadium at BYU. (This is nearly inexplicable to me—we didn't usually buy tickets to football games, so I don't know why we were there—but it makes me happy in a way that relieves some of the guilt/anxiety/sadness I have that my dad didn't have a son.) It is a cold, Novemberesque day, the kind that threatens snow and blusters with a bitter wind. He points out that we are surrounded by college students and then he tells me, with a forcefulness that was rare for him, that one of his hopes for me is that I will grow up and graduate from college. Probably this isn't the first time he and I (and/or my mom) talked about going to school. But it is the sharpest memory, the clearest and the sweetest. I didn't want to go to BYU (but my circumstances meant it was my only choice) but I always, always wanted to get my degree. It seems a miraculous set of situations that had to occur for me to be able to go when I did, and I continue to be grateful that I was given the chance. (And wistful that I didn't push on and get my MA and PhD. And hopeful that one day I still will.)
22. Music. I'm fairly ignorant when it comes to real knowledge about music. I can't read it, for one thing, nor play it. My singing voice is abysmal. I mostly listen to weird alternative stuff that only 1% of the world would recognize. But I know that music has, quite literally, saved me. From boredom and long runs and dirty kitchens for certain, but also in a spiritual way. (Even though I don't really listen to spiritual music very often.) It makes me happy to hear a song I love, to turn it up loud and sing along.
23. My amazing nieces. If I stop to think about it, I know I don't do enough to foster my relationships with my grown-up nieces. (I have four of them who are married and have babies; I am now the great-aunt to ten children!) But I am grateful to them. They remind me what it felt like to be a young mom, full of that irascible joy that is always tinged with doubt and worry; the reminder helps me in two ways. It lets me remember just exactly how good those days were, and it points out just how good my days are right now. Plus, they keep having babies so there are babies to hold and play with and quilt for!
24. My mother-in-law, Beth. You know how the cliche goes, the one about people not getting along with their in-laws. I never really felt that way about mine. Beth and I are very different, but I love her. She is an example to me of courage, persistence, and kindness. I always remember that, when I was first dating Kendell, he told me that if his mom didn't make it to heaven, no one would. I think he was right!
25. Reading. Like writing and running, reading is something I can't imagine myself without. In fact I can't remember a time when books weren't a solace and a joy to me. Getting lost in story and language...there just isn't anything better to me.
26. My job. I'm certain I've said this before, but I really, really love my job as a librarian. Kendell and I were talking the other day about the future, and he asked if I want to stay there forever. (Mostly he asked this because it's not a very high-paying job.) Of course, my ultimate goal is to be able to really work as a writer, but I'd have to be really, really, really successful before I gave up my library gig. It challenges me to communicate in ways I otherwise wouldn't; it lets me share my small bits of knowledge with others. And it gives me some great stories to tell!
27. Writing. Despite my recent lack of words, I continue to be grateful that, in my heart (if not, obviously, my career—yet!), I am a writer. I process things by thinking how could I write about this? and I make sense of what I experience by framing it in words. It keeps me sane in a way that's completely different than the way that running does. It makes me think and reason and dig down to what is true and real and right. Even if I never achieve a smidgeon of success as a writer, I still will always process in this way, and for that I am grateful.
28. Poems. I am nearly always reading some novel or another—but I am always reading a book of poems. I am grateful because they are small, swift knives, cutting right to the important parts. I'm also grateful that writers write them at all, as they definitely don't have much financial value. The value of poetry lies in how it forces you to see yourself, both when you recognize something in a poem and when you don't.
29. Essays. I read a lot of essay collections. There is the swift shortness they hold that pulls me to them, but it is something more—the uncovering of other people's lives. It's nearly voyeuristic, except it's also about the writing. When I am reading essays my thoughts are simultaneously these: how cool (moving, magical, transforming, tragic, exhilarating) is it that this person had this experience (I wish I could have it, too) (but I'm grateful I can read about it) and Oh, MY. How did this person write this experience in this way? I want to write like this! Which is a long way of saying I'm grateful for essays both for what they show me about life and what they teach me about writing.
30. My friend Jamie. She lives just a few blocks from me, and five or six years ago, the boundaries of our ward (church congregation) were changed so that we went to church together. We'd said hello a few times, and then one Sunday afternoon she showed up at my house with a bag full of clothes that her youngest son had grown out of. Did I want them for Kaleb? Yes! We stood in my front yard that day and talked, and then we just became fast friends. She knows a lot of my secrets, too. She's listened to me and given me advice or just been that person who knows what I'm feeling by how I walk down the hall at church. Plus, she's an example of truly striving to be like Christ. She is the person in my life who lives the gospel the most.
31. In addition to my friend Wendy, that is. She and I also met because of that boundary rearrangement. I wanted to be friends with her for a long time before we finally started talking, but now I can't imagine life without her. She is wise and dedicated and unafraid to be herself. She invited me to come to the temple with her when she was sealed to her son (whom she adopted) and that stands as one of my life's best days. Plus, she'll go hiking with me!
32. Jeramy, who changed everything for me and is never very far away from my heart. Actually, never far away at all. Always right there.
33. Perfect black pants. There are more than one pair of perfect black pants. Three or so of them, in fact, and I feel blessed to own them all! It's true that the majority of my closet is of the black persuasion; contradictory or not, wearing black makes me happy. But forget the little black dress (I have two of them!), it's the perfect black pants I can't live without.
34. Sweaters. Perhaps it is my profession—is there anything more librarianish than a cardigan?) but I don't think so, because I loved them long before. I wear sweaters a lot. I have decorative sweaters (you know, the ones you wear because they're cute and finish your outfit) and functional sweaters (that actually keep you warm). Sometimes I wear both. Certainly this gratitude exists because I'm that girl, the one who's always cold. But it also has something to do with comfort. Wearing a sweater out into the world is the next best thing to just staying at home in your bed.
35. My sister-in-law Cindy. Most of our kids were born within a year or so of each other, so we've been in the same place so many times in our lives. I actually was friends with Cindy before I met Kendell. Marrying a good friend's brother is a great way to make sure you love your in-laws! She is the kind of person who always has exactly what you need somewhere in her purse or her car or her house, an accomplishment that astounds me as I'm the sort of person who never has what you need. Plus, she's always willing to help with my kids, listen to me complain, or give me advice.
36. My sister-in-law Melissa. Here is the thing with Melissa: I don't think I've ever seen her sad, grumpy, moody, or severely annoyed. She's quick to laugh and has a way of making people feel at home. Since I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve, I love those aspects of her personality. Plus: she also has a baby she's willing to share a little bit with me!
37. My friends at work. I really do love my job (see #), but part of what makes it good are the people I work with. They have each taught me something, and not only about being a librarian.
38. Kendell's job. It's been almost a decade since he was re-hired at Novell and we started trying to recuperate from his 16-month unemployed stint. In some ways I've never fully emotionally recovered from that time—deep down, I don't think I will ever trust that the rug won't be pulled out from under us again. But all of that emotional baggage means I count his job as one of my greatest blessings. We've had awesome insurance, a steady paycheck, a 401k and a way to try to plan for the future. I know it isn't always perfect, but I don't know what we'd do without it.
39. Health insurance. Here's a story. Last month, we took Kaleb in for his yearly heart check up. (His aortic valve is bicuspid—Kendell's was monocuspid, but no doubt this is a genetic connection between them.) He had an EKG, an echo, and a twenty-minute appointment with our awesome and wonderfully sweet pediatric cardiologist. He needs to have this exam yearly, just to make sure that his heart stays healthy. He'll need it for his entire life, just in case. Yesterday I got the bill for this experience—$2500. To say that I am grateful for our health insurance is an unendurable understatement. What would I do without it? I wouldn't be able to sleep for the worry. We are all of us just one medical disaster away from financial ruin, but the blessing of health insurance makes this risk a much more bearable. Thank you, fates or choices or heavenly intervention that brought us health insurance!
40. Fragrance. During our Black Friday shopping this year, I remembered something about my teenaged self that I'd forgotten: even then, I loved perfume. My friend Christie once gave me a bottle of Giorgio perfume and it became one of my prized possessions. I loathed some fragrances and adored others (mostly for the memories they connected me to); I visited the perfume counter whenever my friends and I went to the mall. I'm not so obsessed with perfume now, but I still think about smells quite often, how they infuse and strengthen memory, how they soothe or invigorate, how they make things more pleasant. As one of my greatest fears is being the stinky ________ (wife, mother, teacher, librarian, friend, lady at Target etc), I am grateful to live in a time where beautifully-scented body products are pretty easy to come by.
41. Wool socks. I run in Smartwool socks. I hike in them, too. And as soon as it gets cold outside, I start wearing them inside my boots. Wool socks are magical. Even on the hottest run they keep my feet cool, and yet on freezing winter rushes to the mailbox, they make sure my feet are cozy. They're vaguely indulgent but so worth it. (Nathan, who is fond of socks in general, shares my penchant for wool. He's been wont to sneak a pair of mine when his are all dirty.)
42. SDBBE. This is my group of reading friends. It's sort of like a book group...only not, because we don't actually meet in person very often. Instead, we each pick a book, read it, and annotate it. Then we send it on to the next person. This means that each month I'm reading a book I didn't pick out but am bound to love because I trust each member's reading tastes. Plus, it is amazing how close you can get to people just by conversing within a book. Britt, Becky, Isabel, Apryl, and Jeannette—I love you girls!
43. Our friends the McAlisters. You know when you find that perfect couple—all of the spouses like each other, there's not a huge gap in income levels, education, or lifestyle choices, and you all like the same chocolate cake? Those are our friends the McAlisters. They moved away from us a few years ago, and we still miss them desperately, but I also continue to be grateful for their friendship!
44. The Lees. Another perfect-for-us couple. Kendell and Steve were mission companions many, many years ago, and they've remained friends ever since. Steve is awesome to have around because he's great with kids (seriously...my children love & adore him!), he's easy going, and he doesn't get flustered by the occasional off-color joke. His wife, Staycha, is equally awesome—smart and funny and kind. And also beautiful, but not in that snotty, I'm-better-than-you way. They live in southern Utah so we don't see them as often as we'd like, but! They did spend Thanksgiving with us this year, which made the day even better.
45. Our friend James. Kendell and James started working together at WordPerfect in about 1992 and we've been friends ever since. We watched each other's families grow up; he has a Nate to go with our Nathan, even. My three Bigs are almost the exact same age as his three youngest, so they always had built-in friends. James divorced his wife awhile ago, which was an ugly and sad thing. But our friendship has endured worse than divorce (namely: his stint selling Amway). He's my person who will always help us if he can. I know that some people might think it's weird that I have a great friendship with a single man. (This bothered my father-in-law quite a bit, for example.) It's not though. Our friendship simply works!
46. Neighbors. Back in 1993 when we were building our house, there were three other houses in the cul-de-sac and a great big expanse of field behind us; the road ended right next to our property line. During the next summer, the road was finished and houses started to fill the field. Since then we've had tons of neighbors move in and then move out—we are, in fact, the longest residents of our little neighborhood. But despite the coming and going (and a few, let's confess, awfully painful experiences), we've had (and continue to have) great neighbors. It is nice knowing that if I need a can of tomato soup or a cup of sugar, someone will be willing to borrow it to me. (Let alone lend me space in their recycling bins, haul my garbage can to the curb if I forget, and call at 1:37 in the morning just to make sure we know we went to bed with the garage door still open.)
47. My house. #45 lets you know that my house isn't new by any stretch. The kitchen is dated and the design is...well, right out of the early 70's, I guess. A perfect representation of "rambler." (Read: we have an enormously long hall connecting all the bedrooms.) I often wish I could move so we could have the perfect house (we know exactly what we'd do if the economy would allow it!), but since I won't be going anywhere anytime soon, I'm going to be grateful for the house I have. Since we started building just before the great big building boom happened here, our payment is really pretty reasonable. Everything is finished (basement, fence, yard) and a few things are renovated (ok, just the floors). But the best thing is the memories it holds. They built up, layer upon layer, in all the rooms. If I ever do get to move, that is what I will mourn leaving behind—the images connected to my home.
48. Living by the mountains. When we got out of the car yesterday to go to church, Haley said "Mom! It's cold! Why do we live here?" and while I am not crazy about the cold, I am grateful to live in Utah by the mountains. I love having seasons and watching Timp change with them. I love that if I want to go hiking, I can be on a trail 15 minutes after leaving my house. I love that the mountains have become a thing I have a relationship with. Despite the cold, and the hot summers, and the constant worry over water, I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.
49. Online friendships. I don't respond to comments left on my blog as often as I want to. This isn't out of a lack of affection but a lack of time and organization. But! I am so grateful for every. single. comment I get on my blog. I'm grateful for the friends I've made through blogging, even if I haven't met them in person yet. I've cried, cheered, happy-danced, shook my head in agreement, and responded in kind to so many good people. This technology makes my life better (even if I do spend too much time on it!)
50. The gospel. OK, I know: I started out wanting to count the little things I'm grateful for. But when I look back on this list, that sort of got away from me. None of these are little things, and so the gospel must also be included. I know my relationship with it is often convoluted. I make so many mistakes and fall short so often. I sometimes feel like my past will never allow me to really feel comfortable living the gospel—sometimes it feels like a shirt instead of my own skin. But there's this: I know it is true and I know it has blessed me. I know that giving up my rebellious ways (as much as I can) and trying to live a better life has helped me have a, well—a better life. Who would I be without it?
So there it is—my list of fifty things I'm grateful for. It took me longer than I thought, but only because I tend to get wordy. And here's a challenge: before December starts, try writing your own list. It doesn't have to be wordy—just a list. Link me up if you write one!
