Gratitude

Oh, I am grateful for where I live. I know I’ve said it before, because when we’re grateful, we have the luxury of that refrain.

Oh, I’m grateful for the work I love. Granted not every day goes smoothly. In fact some, like yesterday, are truly awful and make me question whether or not I should subject the students to my ineptitude, but I am grateful for them, their forgiveness, their generosity of spirit.

Oh, I am grateful for the rain. We have had quite a bit lately, and all I can think is, “Let it rain,” as I recall September past and fires, and ochre air that kept us inside and sent others fleeing their homes.

Oh, I am grateful for my husband who has essentially repainted our entire home. Gone is the paneling that covered every surface, a flashback to the 70s on every wall. While I teach away, he maintains a low profile in another part of the house. Our yard, our small repairs, our big decisions? All is a part of our partnership.

Oh, I am grateful for my son, who married the love of his life—and now one of mine, too—in what he called a “rustic formal” ceremony in the redwoods of northern California a little over a month ago. His wedding clarified for us all that truly, “Love is all you need.”

Oh, I am grateful for those stunning words and music, for those Beatles, among so many contributors to the soundtrack of my life. Let the music play.