Every Reason to be Thankful

This Thanksgiving will be different and unusual in many ways. I assume that if you are reading this blog, you know about all that my family has gone through in the aftermath of Super-storm Sandy. My Grandmother's house is still in a state of disarray (to put it mildly) and has no heat. So, this will be the first Thanksgiving in my lifetime that my family will not be gathering at my Grandparents' house for a day of celebration and over-eating. That is not to say we won't be getting together. We certainly will. It will just be at my Aunt and Uncle's house instead.

It would be easy for some to look at the trials of the past month and be angry or bitter rather than thankful, but I think for many of us, it has given perspective that only loss can bring. The more loosely one holds onto material things, the more one appreciates the immaterial. The fact that my family was not hurt (bodily) in the storm is huge blessing in and of itself. But then there were the little mercies shown throughout: the china my Grandmother gave to me made it through unscathed; the lighthouse in the front of our house was recovered days after the storm; S's friend brought dry ice over so the food in the fridge didn't spoil (providing food during those first difficult days); a friend gave me gas so I could get home to help with the clean up; and some of the special (sentimental) Christmas ornaments were able to be salvaged. Each of these things were reminders that it could have been worse. I think my Dad said it best though, "when you look around at what happend to so many others who literally lost everything, we were really pretty lucky." Granted, I don't believe in luck, but I can agree with the sentiment. In the grand scheme of things, we got off pretty easy.

Another difference is that this is the first Thanksgiving I will be celebrating with the man I love. He is one of the greatest blessings God has brought into my life, and I look forward to celebrating many more holidays with him in the future.

Health, happiness, family, friends, joy, and hope... so much to be thankful for!

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for peace and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. ~ Jeremiah 29:11

Un Papa, Une Maman Pour Tous les Enfants

That was a sign being held by a fairly large crowd of Parisians. Translated, it means "One Dad, One Mom for all Children." The last place on earth I would expect a anti-same-sex marriage rally is France, and yet more than 100,000 people attended. I guess that is what I get for stero-typing the French.  :)

Click here for article.

Goodbye, Single Life!

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end..."  ~Semisonic

Ok, so they might not be the deepest of lyrics, but as a new beginning is looming in the very near future, these lyrics keep coming back to haunt me. The adventurer in me has always loved change, but the sentamental side has difficulty saying goodbye. New is always exciting, but old is often comforting, and when the old has been good, to trade it in for the unknown can be a little scary.

 Only a month left before I trade in the single, carefree life of a nomad for the title "Mrs." - complete with a new name, new home, and new roommate (more like LIFE-mate). It's not so much scary as it is just a bit unbelievable. Even after two years of being courted by my sweetheart, it is hard to picture myself as a married woman, but ready or not, here I come! Goodbye, single life; HELLO husband!

panem et circenses

Like most American conservatives, I went through November 7th in a state of shocked disbelief. I was certain the election would turn out differently. I couldn't imagine THAT MANY people would choose the status quo, when things are as bad as they are. I tried to blame it on voter fraud, the fact that Romney is Mormon, and the fact that change scares people, but deep down I know it is more than that. The American people have become soft. We are not like our Grandparents' generation. We do not want to work for what we have. We want retirement without a career, entertainment without cost, lawlessness without consequences, credit cards without debt, sex without babies, families without responsibility, recklessness without repercussions, courtesness from othes, but not for others, tolerance for immoral judgements, but not for immoral Generals. What we want is to harvest what we have not planted and not reap what we have so unfortunately sown.

In reading about the Roman Empire during the time of its decline, so many parallels can be drawn, but the phrase that keeps coming to mind is that of Juvenal, a satyrist of the time. He lamented that a people, once so great, could sell their souls for so little.

Iam pridem, ex quo suffragia nulli vendis, effudit curas; nam qui dabat olim imperium, fasces, legiones, omnia, nunc se continet atque duas tantum res anxius optat, panem et circenses.

Now long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, we have abdicated our duties; those who once upon a time handed out imperial power, symbols of authority, legions and all else, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and games in the Circus.

I suppose you could replace that with food stamps and reality TV... and you'd have modern day America. So sad...

"It is beyond anything I thought I'd ever see. It is a devastating sight right now." ~ Gov. Chris Christie

In the Aftermath

"The sun will continue rising and setting whether or not I pass this exam - though I'd rather it not go on if I fail." ~ Anne of Green Gables

Unfortunately, the earth does not keep from spinning for the sake of one broken heart - or even for the sake of many. When it is the misfortune of others, I sometimes stop and stare in amazement at what they had to go through, or even admiration at their strength, but then I move on and forget. When disaster strikes my own family, it is altogether different. It seems as though life should not be allowed to go on. Why are people posting pictures of family vacations and newborn babies? Don't they know this is a time of mourning?! I realize that is utterly ridiculous and yet, deep down, that is what I feel. It seems the earth should stop its rotation - pause, in a moment of silence for what has been lost. Even as I go through the motions of normal life: getting dressed, driving to work... there is one constant thought... it's gone... it's all gone. The sense of loss is so great, it is literally choking me. Not because I have a great affinity for things, but because I should have been there to share in the loss - because I should have been there to help my family when they needed me. So, as another day dawns across the globe, they remain in a holding pattern, watching as water and fire destoy everything, and I watch from the sidelines, wondering how does one even begin the process of starting over... with nothing?