I’ve found it’s very easy to forget to be thankful. It’s very easy to bitch and moan about the cost of gas. The fact that the Steelers lost to the Kansas City Chiefs. The fact that my life is so hard because it’s rainy today. Thankfulness—gone. And it’s just so easy to do.
Today, I’m putting away my usual cynicism and dark sense of humor, and I’m being all gushy-mushy. I’m listing the things I’m thankful for. Perhaps, my thankfulness will seep through your computer and into your fingertips, until you, too, are thankful. Because shoot, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how gray the skies, there is always a reason to be pleased.
SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That although she was raised a Detroit Lions fan, she expatriated to Pittsburgh in college. Therefore, she no longer gets upset when the Lions lose. She gets excited when they win, but she no longer puts faith in their ability to do so.
SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That her little brother moved to Charleston so they can now watch bad B horror movies and drink cheap beer on the same couch, as opposed to on couches hundreds of miles apart. That her dad consistently calls on Saturdays whenever the Michigan Wolverines do something stupid. That her mom learned how to send texts that say, “I love you.”
SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That she lives in Charleston, South Carolina—a city with ancient wrought iron fences, mansions overlooking a turbulent harbor, and flickering lamps that bathe the bricked streets of the French Quarter in golden light.
SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That her boyfriend has a sense of humor that makes her laugh until her ribs hurt; that he cooks better than Martha Stewart; that he supports her, no matter what, without looking at her like she’s off her rocker; and that all it takes is a hug from him to make Sara Dobie believe everything truly, honestly, will be all right.
SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That she has loving friends—in Charleston and scattered across the US—who send hugs, smiles, advice, and gag gifts, without expecting anything in return.
SARA DOBIE IS THANKFUL: That she has been on many adventures. Spellbound and dizzy at the edge of the waterfall in Hocking Hills, Ohio. Crying at the glory of the Paris Opera House. Drunk with her Uncle Barney, stumbling along the quays of Venice. Hiking the Narrows of Zion National Park in her battered, green Airwalks from eighth grade. Even playing Marco Polo in her parents’ basement. (And Dad, we will always know you had your eyes open.)
Happy Thanksgiving, dear reader. I’m thankful for you, too. Tomorrow, eat until you pass out. Hug everyone you know. If you’re up to it, hug a stranger at the supermarket. Or feel free to just yell GOBBLE GOBBLE after one too many spiced ciders with Captain Morgan.