Gratitude

This morning, I slept in thanks to Family Day, which is a day off school hereabouts. When I got up, I threw on the bathrobe my sister-in-law Steph gave me over my pajamas, and went upstairs for breakfast.

I made the strawberry-rhubarb tea that my friend Tiphaine sent me from France in the teapot my mother gave me, and poured it into the beautiful mug my New Orleans friend Sarah bought for me when she was in Europe a few years ago. I buttered my toast from the butter dish my mother gave me. I sprinkled cinnamon sugar on my toast from the little wooden-lidded delft-patterned pot my Oma left behind, using one of Oma’s teaspoons. I poured milk into my tea from the Reid’s Dairy milk jug my parents passed along to me when I moved here.

I made eggs and toast for my kids, then sat down at the table to eat, by the flowers in the beautiful blue glass vase given as a wedding gift from my husband’s aunt. As I ate my breakfast, I turned on the Kindle my husband gave me as a gift a couple of years back and read for a bit from a free Tor collection of short science fiction and fantasy stories that I downloaded from a link on a Facebook friend’s page a couple of weeks ago.

 Later, I dressed myself for the day, adding the finishing touches to my outfit by putting on earrings that my dear friend Jenny gave me and a bead necklace and shawl that Liam brought last year.

I could go through my entire day, my week, in this manner.

It’s never hard to find things to be dissatisfied with, things that aren’t going according to plan, the car that won’t start, the plans that don’t come to fruition. It’s never hard to focus on the ways the people around us aren’t living up to hopes or expectations, and the ways we ourselves have disappointed or let down the people we love. It’s never hard to find reasons to be ungrateful for the minutes and hours of each day.

It’s also not hard to find reasons to be grateful. I am surrounded by them.