Several years ago, we had the opportunity to join friends on a trip to an amusement park. Their elementary-aged daughter earned the tickets through a school activity and, knowing hubby likes fast rides, they invited us to share their day. The amusement park was a 90-minute drive from home, which gave us an opportunity for a good visit during the car ride.
We were nearing our destination when, from the front seat, the girl’s father looked at her through the rear view mirror and said, “I hope you appreciate this. Do you realize that you get to do a lot of things that other kids don’t get to do? You get a lot of opportunities, but are you really grateful?”
Although the youngster was the intended audience, the two listening guests got the message. That day is forever etched in our memory, mostly for that simple yet profound reminder of our blessings. We have family and friends who love us. We have a warm, comfortable home, food on our table, shoes on our feet, and plenty of clothing judging from the piles of laundry that are never completely done. Our bills are paid. On top of having life’s necessities, we have had the privilege of traveling beyond America’s shores. If tomorrow never comes, we have had a wonderful life.
But are we grateful?
I hope so. I pray so. Yet, two days before turning the calendar on a new year, I must confess my eagerness to bid this year not only goodbye, but good riddance. We are still blessed beyond measure, but thanks to life and loss, time and tides, this year will go down in our history book as more mediocre than memorable. One of the better moments was celebrating my fifth decade of life. A kindness of age is that my most fond recollections are of times spent with family and friends, more than of places and things. I look past my keyboard to pictures of parents and grandparents who taught us much about the value of a life well lived. Would they agree that we are making our years count for something worthwhile? Will our nieces and nephews, and their children, tell our story long after we are gone? Or will they remember mere trinkets and toys?
Our pastor often reminds us of the importance of enjoying this journey called life. Over the course of writing this entry, I prepared and enjoyed a delicious meal. My mother-in-law called, as did a family friend. Simple pleasures, yet profound reminders that regardless of the valleys and potholes along the pavement, overall, the journey is a good one.
And I am grateful.