The other day I was at Target shopping for supplies. While there, I spied a white cup in the dinnerware isle with the word “grateful” stamped on it. The cup was heavy, and clumsy, and not well made. While not visible, the finger indentations could be felt, dimpled on the surface, and the handle was made for a larger grip than mine. I picked it up, and put it down several times, trying to understand why I should buy it. Finally, I put it in my cart, telling myself it would help me remember all the good in my life, and to feel grateful more often.
I looked up the words grateful and thankful. I found they are easily confused in meaning; grateful means to be happy with what you already have, thankful is acknowledging what someone has done for you. My father thanked my mother every evening after dinner for preparing the table, and cooking a meal for him. He was also grateful for her as the woman he chose to share his life with. I am thankful and grateful to Ricky, and Andy in the same ways. The are the literal backbone of our lives. The workers that make “us” possible. They are sweet, wonderful men, and make me happy every day.
In the mornings, I read the news, and despair as to what we have become; but now I grab my “grateful” cup, and at the same time remember our collective ability to feel, and care about, and love one another. It has helped me see silver linings, lowered my blood pressure, and keeps the world’s worries in perspective. It is so much easier to hate. My new cup is a reminder that I don’t have to go down that path, that every morning I can choose to be grateful.
We’ve already planted seeds for the coming year, Ricky and Andy continue to care for the trees and shrubs that will be available to you this spring. The garden is beautiful and has gone through a remarkable fall season. I’ve let the leaves lie and I can see the broken peonies through my window., but I can also see what the future holds, and it is fabulous.