It’s a month that finds our nation collectively giving thanks. As individuals many of us take this time to count our blessings. Last November, one month after my husband had lost his job and facing very grim prospects, I distinctly remember the guilt in not being able to feel thankful for what we still had. Our health, family and friends. Each other. Seeing those things through the darkness that had set in over our house took more effort than I had most days. It was a rough year.
This November things are looking up.
We have work and we’re warm. The lights are back on around here (literally and emotionally) and it feels easier to take stock of the good. But just between you and me, this gratitude stuff sometimes feels a little forced. Truth is, we’re lucky. So very lucky. Our list is long and plentiful and reading through it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.
But I’m not a big fan of winter in these parts. Four o’clock comes ’round and it’s dark out and there are cranky children and mountains of homework to contend with. Chores feel impossible and the days never end. I hate that I feel this way and wish I took it all in stride but oh, how I miss the extra hours of daylight already. I am eternally grateful for a thousand things, but if I’m being honest, I’d tell you that I’m also counting the days until March.