“Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not, but reckon up the chief of the blessings you do possess, and then thankfully remember how you would crave for them if they were not yours.”
― Marcus Aurelius, Meditations
I became aware of this festival of giving thanks after I came to the United Sates of America. In India, we didn’t say thanks, our looks and smiles said it all. Even today, when I thank my parents for a kind act, they get embarrassed and somewhat offended, ‘You don’t thank your own, thanking is too formal!’ I respect that and say how much I love the particular dress/book/babysitting, I don’t utter the word thanks. I show my gratitude instead, with a beaming smile or an extra hug. I have, however, grown to love saying thanks. That, I think, is the beauty of belonging to two countries. I can constantly pick and choose all that I like from both the cultures and discard the ones that don’t make much sense to me.
Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday simply because it transcends the boundaries of structured religions and all Americans and residents of America come together this day to show their gratitude and break bread with friends and family. There is,indeed, something uniquely beautiful in offering thanks. Is there any other holiday that is just dedicated to giving thanks? Being grateful for all the bounty that we have received? There are no gifts to be bought, nothing to wrap and put under the tree, no tree to trim and decorate.
I started a project of writing down one fact each day for this entire month, for which I am thankful. Good friends, understandably, groaned at my sudden spurt of gratefulness, and I predictably, ignored their good-natured ribbing and marched right ahead with my sparkling positivism. I seriously believe it is important to count our blessings. Not only does that keep those dark, gloomy thoughts at bay which loom large on the horizon when the sun doesn’t shine upon me, but also makes me much more sensitive and compassionate towards others who don’t have much – both in materialistic and non materialistic sense.
But being the impatient person that I am, how could I contain myself to mere one thought a day? How about all those other ones that are constantly bubbling within me as I try to arrange them in sequence and spread them evenly throughout this month of Thanksgiving? I abandoned the project and decided to put my thoughts in a blog post instead. Most days, I try to be grateful for the life I lead, some days………well, I am only human.
The month started with an occasion which was something to be greatly thankful for, my mother’s birthday. How can I even begin to thank two individuals, my mother and father, who gave it their all to love, cherish and nurture their only child, to the best of their ability.
Oh, my list of blessings is endless. It is impossible to enumerate them all, so I will just name a few.
I am thankful for the community where I live that not merely tolerates diversity but accepts it, respects it, promotes it and celebrates it.
My little, cozy house with heat on this cold, cold day, which seems to shrink every year as the children grow up and spread out, and yet, this lack of space brings us closer. Not much space to hide in our remote corners.
I love to be the cynosure of two big brown eyes, and the silent companionship he provides.
The job that I got after fourteen years of staying at home. The children were ready and so was I.
The two little humans that are responsible for my gray hair as well as the deepening laugh lines on my face. Oh alright, go ahead, call them wrinkles, if you must!
The wonderful educators and coaches that have touched the lives of my children, instilling in them the enthusiasm to learn and play. So very grateful to those special people.
My mother-in-law, who treated me as one of her own, since the day I landed at her doorstep with her son, apprehensive and nervous. I willingly left my country and culture to follow my heart. But really, I never truly left. I simply broadened my horizon.
My brothers and sisters in law, who became the siblings that I never had and showered me with love.
So, so thankful for the feeling that I am surrounded by love and good will from friends here and all over the world. Grateful for the friends in my life who held my hand through difficult times and didn’t let go. You know who you are.
And the moments, those little moments when I live a thousand lives.
The moment when my 13-year-old daughter puts her arms around my neck and says, “I am so happy I can talk to you about anything and the relationship we share. Many of my friends don’t feel like they can talk to their mothers!”
The moments when I get a glimpse of her beautiful heart full of compassion through the facade of teenage nonchalance.
When a warm, cuddly, tousled haired, freshly woken up seven-year old boy scrambles up on my lap to be held and snuggled as he rubs the sleepies off his eyes, before he gets ready for school.
The moment when he sheds tears at the prospect of baby birds dying and shows immense faith in my ability to save them and make his world right. It is an overwhelmingly beautiful moment and scary at the same time.
The sight of the dog, the boy and the girl gamboling on green grass.
When Ryan reminds Sahana as she pins him down in a wrestling match, that he is not her punching bag, but that she should get one for Christmas instead, or yells out his new-found wisdom from school, “Sahana, be a buddy, not a bully!” between giggles.
The moments when one of the computer generated noises (Sahana calls them songs) comes on and I am pulled to dance along with them in our tiny living room.
I give a silent thanks every time Sean’s plane does a successful landing in whatever part of the world he goes to.
The remaining tenacious green leaves hanging on to the trees for dear life as the fall wind blows through them, trying to shake them off.
The slices of the dazzling blue sky through the filigree of bright orange, red and yellow leaves of the fall.
The moment when I look outside my kitchen window and get rewarded with the most spectacular sunset, right in my backyard.
For living in an area where I get to see the amazing change of seasons which reminds me of the cycle of life – birth, life, death and resurrection.
And for the man in my life, who doesn’t miss a beat, looks me in the eye and answers my question, “what are you thankful for?” with
“You! I am thankful for you!”
If any of you cynics out there tell me he said that to shut me up once and for all, I am not listening. Tralalalalalala! 🙂
Happy Thanksgiving, friends!
10 thoughts on “Thankful for….”
Beautiful, thoughtful and full of grace. I’m thankful that I got to know you dear friend. What a heartfelt write this is…or…on Indian parlance…’heart touching’ 😉 Happy Thanksgiving dear friend!
Happy thanksgiving to you too, my sweet friend, who always brings a smile to my lips. Thanks for reading.
Loved, simply loved this my friend!
Taposhree, Thank you so much for reading my dear.
I was so very moved by this Piyali. Counting your blessings out loud here blessed my heart too. Happy thanksgiving for a very good life indeed. Hugs, Sharon
Happy Thanksgiving to you too, my friend. And hugs.
Count your blessings one by one – for there are some who have none. Something I used to say to myself as a child. Perhaps the words were stolen from church, or from my father, or from a book I read. I do not remember where I chanced upon them, but I do remember saying it an awful lot. Especially when things went wrong as they often did. As a little girl I had the dubious pleasure of frequenting a number of different religious places – temples, churches, monasteries. My parents in their diverse religious pursuits would ensure I tagged along and ‘imbibed’ the goodness these places enshrined. It always amazed me the amount of people offering prayers and asking for blessings in bad times. Being the talkative idiot that I am, I was curious and full of questions, and would try and find out what they were praying for and why. It is hard to resist curiosity, it is harder to resist an 8 year old hellbent on seeking answers! Often I was indulged enough to be given the answers. I would see patterns, that I recognised in later life. People pray or seek divine intervention in times of great need – but in happier times their devotion or footfall at places of worship seems to take a backseat. When I learnt to make graphs in Maths class, one of my first projects at home was to map out the footfall of devotees in good and bad times. I see the same curve. People forget to be thankful in happier times for the very things they have been devotedly seeking in bad times. This long convoluted anecdote takes me to the heart of what I wish to say – would that I had enough courage to speak without preambles.
Piyali I see in you the rare devotee. Someone who is thankful every single day for her many blessings, and cherishes each gift. As friends, we in turn cherish you for what you mean to us. To me you bring positivity and good thoughts. You come like a sudden spurt of sunshine on a cloudy day of dark clouds. You bring decency, friendship, and a maturity that one rarely sees. You bring me the gift of laughter, of a bond beyond miles, of a happiness shared and of grief halved and cherished equally. I have waited for this blogpost to come through, as I wanted to write at length and to give thanks for YOU – and for your friendship which means so much. Not just to me, but to all your friends near and far. My special wonderful girl. May you always remain a star radiating good vibes, positivity, true friendship and great love. Amen.
With much love,
Sam, your words overwhelm me. You love does that too. Thank you!!
Absolutely love this…I will come back to this time and again when I will be looking hard for blessings to be thankful for.
¸.•*¨*•.♪♫♫♪Have an inspired, grace filled week! .♪♫•*¨*•.¸¸ ♥