Thanksgiving is usually a time when families come together and enjoy each other (or tolerate each other as it may be).  They catch up as they sit around and watch the football game or a movie, family stories are swapped over a dish of sliced veggies with dip, and as we sit and share a turkey feast with family and friends we haven’t seen for months, we feel a sense of thankfulness for being where we are at that moment.

On Thanksgiving, my family usually gets together up in the Bay Area either at my dads or my grandmothers.  This year, we all converged on my dad’s house and we performed all of our customary rituals.  We started the day off gathered around the television watching the football game.  I celebrated as the Packers took away their 11th win.  We sat around the kitchen nibbling off a veggie tray as my grandmother told us stories about my dad and uncle, and my dad’s wife and her sister whipped up scents that could draw cats from miles away. 

Eventually we ended up at the big dining table with a mass of food on our plates swapping stories and laughing at past mishaps.  At the beginning of our dinner my dad always delivers a toast and then we go around and each person shares for what they are thankful.  It is usually the typical: my family, my friends, my job, my cat (my daughter), my doctor (me), etc., etc.  We express thanks for all of the “good” things in our lives, those are easy.  But what about all those things in our lives that we might consider challenging, things that might not be so pleasant for us or that may drive us a little crazy…can we be thankful for them?  Do they not have some importance or significance and can we not appreciate them as much as the “good” things in our lives?

Therefore, I give thanks for all those things that I complain about, because they really do all have meaning and importance in my life:

I give thanks for the whining and fussing, that has for some reason become particularly excessive this first-grade year, with which my daughter graces me daily.  It provides me with continuous laughter, because it reminds me that she was born despite all the odds. 

I give thanks for my husband’s vigorous snoring that could rival an earthquake.  It means that he is still there, each night.

I give thanks for that darn cat that has so many challenges using the litter box, splashes water all over the place when he drinks, and wakes me up at 6:00 am on Saturday morning, because he gives my daughter so much happiness and pleasure.

I give thanks that my little brother is still a big dork despite nearing age 40 and is as forgetful as my 90-year-old grandma, because he really does love his niece and he is the best brother a sister could have. 

I give thanks for my grandma who talks more than she listens, because she really does love her family and she sends me money on my birthday every year (although she did forget this last birthday). 

I give thanks that my dad is a workaholic and has often put his work before everything else, because he has worked hard to improve his perceptions of others’ needs and to keep our family bonded--and he is always there when we need him.  I have fond childhood memories despite him working so much--and he has never stopped being my father. 

I give thanks that my mom lives almost 7000 miles away, because we miss each other and really enjoy each other’s company when we see each other (if she lived nearby, one of us might be in a mental hospital by now).

I give thanks for my mom and dad’s divorce after 30 years of marriage because it meant they could live happier lives than those final years and it brought my dad’s wife into our lives.

I give thanks for my dad’s wife, despite bickering from time to time and getting on each other's nerves like sisters, she is the sister I never had—we are family and she has always been there when I needed her, sometimes stepping up when my blood relatives didn’t.

I give thanks that the bulk of our family live overseas and when we take a vacation we have to go visit them rather than being able to travel to where we really want to go, because it makes us travel when we might otherwise not. 

I give thanks for the intolerable heat every summer because Southern California is essentially a gardener’s dream, and despite during some weeks not being able to step outside and having to water my pots almost daily, you really can grow just about anything. 

I give thanks for the winter rains because it means I don’t have to water the garden. 

I give thanks for this messy, cluttered house whose lack of foyer means its front door enters straight into the living room and its lack of storage results in a 3rd bedroom with so many boxes and bags of stuff looking for somewhere to be placed I don’t even want to open the door, because it means I have a roof over my head and a comfortable bed to sleep in every night.

I give thanks for that horrible Bermuda grass in our front yard that grows into everything and sheds all over the place so you drag dry grass into the house with every step, because…well, let’s be honest…there is nothing to be thankful about Bermuda grass. 

I give thanks for my 14 year old honky-tonk mini-van with dents and scratches and stains on the floor mats because it gets us where we need to go comfortably, including up to that Thanksgiving dinner each year.

I give thanks that I live in Los Angeles where the smog aggravates my allergies and the traffic jams turn a 20-minute drive into an hour and a half because we have beaches, mountains, and everything else in between. 

I give thanks for my neighbors with whom we disagree on so many things like politics, schools, and the like, but who are the nicest most dependable neighbors you could ever ask for and who are caring for our kitty right now (I'm particularly grateful that we don't find ourselves wishing for any new neighbors).  

I give thanks for this little column I get to write that sometimes takes time I don’t have, because it gives me the chance and the motivation to write, and I couldn’t ask for a more supportive editor and loyal readers.

I give thanks that I am 44 and hormonal because, well, I’m 44 and as healthy as I can be at this age and maybe in the near future I won’t have to waste money on all that feminine crap. 

I give thanks that I’m unable to work, because it means I get to see my daughter grow up…every little thing she does I am there for, even though some of it may be from a horizontal perspective. 

I give thanks for being disabled because I get to park at meters without paying and in green zones with no time limit, I get whisked through airport security, and my family and I get to skip to the front of the line at Disneyland...that means no standing in those long lines.  

I give thanks for my pain because it means I’m alive…and that is what being thankful is all about. 

Hope you all had as thankful and giving a year as I have.