Poetry Sunday

This coming Thursday we celebrate the American holiday of Thanksgiving. As those of you who know me or have been with me on this blog through the years, it's my favorite holiday. As much as I complain about all sorts of things, I'm smart enough to realize that I am uniquely blessed and have much to be thankful for - the love of a beautiful and talented wife, strong and dynamic children who have carved their own paths in life, six beautiful and talented grandchildren, a roof over my head, and a comfortable if modest existence.

Thanksgiving is the one day each year we are asked to stop and be grateful for what we have rather than what we wished we could have. This poem, the author of which is unknown to me, sums up how I feel about this most personal and meaningful of holidays.

I Am Thankful – A Poem of Thanksgiving

Author Unknown

I am thankful:

For the wife

Who says it’s hot dogs tonight

Because she is home with me

And not out with someone else.

For the husband

Who is on the sofa

Being a couch potato

Because he is home with me

And not out at the bars.

For the teenager

Who is complaining about doing dishes

Because it means she is at home,

Not on the streets.

For the taxes I pay

Because it means

I am employed.

For the mess to clean after a party

Because it means I have

Been surrounded by friends.

For the clothes that fit a little too snug

Because it means

I have enough to eat.

For my shadow that watches me work

Because it means

I am out in the sunshine.

For a lawn that needs mowing,

Windows that need cleaning,

And gutters that need fixing

Because it means that I have a home.

For all the complaining

I hear about the government

Because it means

We have freedom of speech.

For the parking spot

I find at the far end of the parking lot

Because it means

I am capable of walking,

And I have been blessed with transportation.

For my huge heating bill

Because it means

I am warm.

For the lady behind me in church

Who sings off key

Because it means I can hear.

For the pile of laundry and ironing

Because it means

I have clothes to wear.

For weariness and aching muscles

At the end of the day

Because it means I have been

Capable of working.

For the alarm that goes off

In the early morning hours

Because it means

I am alive.

I am thankful for many things, Dear Readers, and I hope I will never be so complacent about it as to limit my gratitude to one day per year.

Have a good day and enjoy this wonderful holiday, despite all the bitterness and chicanery in the world. Though our ability to celebrate with family and friends may be limited in this ghastly year, at least we are alive and living in America ... battered and dented it may be, it's still where the rest of the world wishes it could be.

More thoughts coming.

Bilbo