Gratitude

I’ve been thinking a lot about gratitude lately. I recently turned 50, and it got me thinking about all the things I truly have to be grateful for. This time of year makes everyone think about it, and I am no exception, but this year was different for me. This year has me thinking about the little things, the obscure things, the things that you take for granted.

Twenty-two years ago, my first husband and oldest daughter died in a car accident. He was 30, she was just five. I have had more years on this earth than their ages combined. I have gotten to experience things they never will. So, I am not upset about turning 50, it doesn’t bother me. When I say 50 is just a number, I mean it. If I didn’t turn 50 at some point, that would mean I was dead, so I choose 50.

Three years ago, we had really outgrown the house we were living in. We had two dogs and two cats, three kids, and an au pair. Who was going to rent to us? No one. On a whim, we found the perfect house. We were driving out of the driveway and I texted the landlord and told her we would take it, fully expecting her to say that the pets were a problem, or the fact that we didn’t have “jobs” was a problem, but she got back to us the next day and we were moved in within two weeks. This is my favorite house. Finally, we have room for everything and everyone. Including guests, on occasion.

Twenty-one years ago, I met Jim. He loved me unconditionally, through the raw grief of having just lost half my family. I wonder how many times he said to himself, “Man, I did not sign up for this.” But he stuck around. He is my rock. My voice of reason. My snap back to reality (oh, there goes gravity. He’s a huge Eminem fan, couldn’t resist).

Almost nine years ago, I started Chip Magnet. You all know that Jim thought it was a terrible idea. Well, how ya like me now? Once he saw the light, he was all in. And when I came to him and told him that I missed my kids too much to be at work every day? Without missing a beat, he made it happen.

Jim had a surprise party for me last weekend. I hated it and I loved it; introverts will understand. Hell, I think everyone will understand. It made me realize that there are a lot of people out there who honestly give a shit about me, who took the time to share my day. They wouldn’t have had to give up their Saturday night to watch me drink too much vodka and do a Jager Bomb. I don’t know if you heard me. A JAGER BOMB. I am 50.

For roughly the last year or so, I have spent my days the way I want to. If I want to binge true crime and knit, I do it. If I want to bake buns with my youngest, we do it. If I want to pull my teenaged daughter out of school to go to the apple orchard for the day, I do it. If I decide to make 50 hats to donate, in honor of my 50th birthday, I take the time, and I do it. Everything else be damned, and believe me, it was. I cranked out 50 hats in 17 days, and another eight hats before the end of the month. Don’t get me wrong, I am still in charge of the normal *antiquated word alert* housewife things, like grocery shopping, laundry, cleaning, etc., but honestly, I don’t mind those things anymore.

I have met some amazing people in the last 10 years. People who have become good friends, friends that I talk to all the time, friends I do stuff with, friends I share stuff with, usually good stuff. But three of them, in particular, have become confidants. Imagine having three people that you can talk to without judgement. There’s the good part. Without judgement. These are the friends in the trenches. One of them started out as an employee, but quickly became a friend; one of them I met through Jim, he kinda grew up with her; and one of them I met through knitting, imagine that. I have bared my soul to these people, and they still like me. I have showed my ugly side to them, and yet, here they are.

Helen.

Last month, I saw a sleeping bag in a doorway here in Eau Claire. I think that was what started it all for me. This is why I made the 58 hats. Gratitude for the things I have, and yet, I feel like it is not enough. I know it is a good thing, a great thing, even. But I can do more. Over the next year, I am going to practice not only gratitude, but giving back. I feel like I have been given much to be thankful for, and just like when you cut back a plant, it gets more shoots, I am going to give back, so I can grow to give back even more. Wow, that sounded corny as hell. But what a rewarding experience.