All My Blessings...

http://youtu.be/xBtKRKM3a9o My "Thanksgiving Blessings" video
*Please take a moment to watch the video...

　
"What we're really talking about is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday of November when no one diets. I mean, why else would they call it Thanksgiving?...

...Thanksgiving dinners take eighteen hours to prepare. They are consumed in twelve minutes. Half-times take twelve minutes. This is not coincidence." ~Erma Bombeck, 26 November 1981

Have you counted your blessings this week as we come upon Thanksgiving? I’ve counted mine, but I don’t simply wait for Thanksgiving day to do that. Although, I say an extra special prayer of Thanksgiving for all the blessings God has seen fit to enrich my life with. If I was sitting in Santa Claus’ lap, given my LONG list of blessings, I would definitely tell him that I was a GOOD girl! Here’s the thing about blessings: it’s not so much about having the best of every material possession out there. It’s about appreciating and valuing all the non-material treasures in your life: family, friends, a home, a full pantry, and two munchy little puppies. It doesn’t get any better than that!
I wish it was mandatory that people spent time with loved ones and reminisced. It’s more entertaining than any video game out there, and the laughter that comes with happy memories - not necessarily happy ones at the time, but ones that seem almost riotous now...is not something that you can put a price tag on. Wow, if you charged for that, I daresay we’d all be in that 2% of Americans who have more money than they’ll ever spend in five lifetimes. But, I digress...this isn’t about money or the lack thereof. This is about something much more important than money: love–grateful love and appreciation for all the people in our lives who put up with our moods, our grumps, our quirks, our faults and frailties and love us anyway, despite all those things.
There’s just something fun, for me, in sitting around with family and close friends and hearing old stories from everyone’s childhood. I’m familiar with my brother and sister’s stories. I was a participant in many of them, along with my some of my friends’ memories. It was my granddaddy and Daddy who could tell stories about growing up that had you holding your sides, while snickering and snorting with laughter. It’s an art - being a good story teller. It didn’t matter whether I knew the people in their stories either, because a good story teller can make you feel as if you know them. I like to think I learned that from both of them. I like to think that I’m a good story teller and that it doesn’t matter whether or not you know the main characters in the tale of my life. I hope that I describe them in a way where you feel like you do know them in some way and love hearing about them as much as I love sharing memories of them.
God blessed me with an amazing array of family and friends. There are some friends who were plunked down in my life straightaway - like placing a picture on a table. The "this one goes here" philosophy, I call it. Then, there are other friends who came, not from the divine one’s straight-away handing of them to me, but with the help of one of his bright lights.
Marie Osmond helped out with that regarding a special group of my friends. I’m sure everyone knows who Marie Osmond is. The Osmond family has been a staple of my life since I was old enough to say "one bad apple". I’d always watched Marie and Donny on television [Friday nights/8 pm] and I’d followed the Osmond brothers for years prior to that. Who my age didn’t dream of being Mrs. Donny Osmond? My sister led me to believe that Donny would never pick me over her! I didn’t listen. I figured as long as we were both living in dreamland, my dream was as real as hers and had about as much chance of coming true. Needless to say, Donny passed us both over for a lady name Debbie. I thought Pam and I were pretty close to the front of the line, but Debbie was obviously closer. He made a good choice because they’ve been married for over 30 years. Still, sometimes, my sister and I lovingly recall those days when being Mrs. Donny Osmond was a sight off in our horizon no matter how off-the-mark it was. More aptly defined: not close and no cigar. It happens...
With Marie, however, when I watched her, I knew that she was going to have a special impact on my life. Don’t ask me why, but I felt that long before I ever met her. Does that sound like a grand statement? Perhaps. Some people know at an early age that they were destined for greatness. [Oprah comes to mind with that thought.] Others of us know that great things will happen to us. That’s MY category! Marie led me to some very special friends: Linda, Kelli, Rebecca, Ken, Kristin, Judy, Linda, Paul, Bernay, Tammy, Lynne, Mary, Tanya...the list goes on and on. How do you thank somebody for gifts like these? I don’t know? I’ve expressed the appreciation to her before, and she gets it. We are that kind of blessing to her as she’s told us many times before. We’re doll collectors. I don’t collect so much anymore, [disability and the financial limitations that come along with such can limit a person’s spending abilities] but for a time it was all pink boxes and ooh-ahs.
My "Doll Friends" still provide the ooh-ah moments. They are a special group of people – the kind who learned to keep the wonder and magic of childhood alive in their hearts no matter their age. It’s a pure wonder moment to open a box and find a beautiful doll inside; to allow yourself the freedom to be a kid again and let yourself squeal and giggle with wild abandon! It’s a great feeling to be dazzled by something and know there are other people out there who are dazzled by those same things.
My wish for the world is that the childlike wonder that we had as children would never go away. I think it would be a wise idea if for a half hour every day, women and men played with dolls or bears or Tonika toys, Legos – whatever your pleasure – had tea parties. Turn off the computers, the phones, the mind and let yourself wander back to a time when playing was as easy as breathing. That’s the beautiful thing about Doll Collectors, Bear Collectors and toy collectors in general. They’ve not forgotten how to play or that it’s important to do it, no matter what your responsibilities. Play creates energy and energy flourishes when sparked. Trust me, as someone who can’t run around physically anymore, I know how important the ability to continue to play albeit in limited ways is. You don’t have to run around necessarily to play though. You can do it exuberantly sitting in a chair with a "feel good" in your hand like a doll or bear and let your mind and your giggles take you back to that special place of wonder, or as I like to call them: the Mrs. Beasley and Kitty Karry-all days.
I think we’d all be in a much better place mentally, spiritually, physically and emotionally if we did that: still took time to play. My Doll Friends know how to play. Lord! You’ve not been to a party until you’ve been to a gathering of doll lovers, and Marie Osmond knows how to throw a good party! I’ve been to three or four of her shindigs with my merry band of Doll Friends, and we can rock a house, I’ll tell you that much. Everything else that has happened there is like the Vegas motto: "it stays there!" It’s just understood.... And, in case you don’t truly believe that doll people can have the kind of wild, wacky fun that many classify that term as having, let me just say that our CNY delegation has a few of us on standby with bail money ready should they ever need to make that one phone call. And, we’d be there for them in a New York minute too if the call came in. Oh, I laugh at just the thought of them and some of their hijinx - all legal, mind you. I’ll stop there because I can hear all of their voices chiming in loudly right about now, reminding: "It stays here, Jhilly! Remember, it stays here!" I can keep a secret! Playtime with my brother’s blonde little toy filly with the chain and saddle is evidence of that!
Genie Francis led me to "S’More" very dear friends, and most of them will get that reference. Dee, Luci, Sus, Lori, Sue, AuntB, Tomi...that list goes on and on too. Blessings, every one. Genie, like Marie, is a sister-friend. She’s someone who I watched on tv as a kid and knew our lives would cross later on down the line. It was another example of that in-explainable "knowing". Genie’s gift to my life far outweighs all the joy she brought simply from entertaining me. She’s brought me, like Marie, to some of my dearest friends. Isn’t it amazing how God uses people and places to build bridges of love and friendship? I think so anyway. There again, I can never appropriately express the gratitude I feel toward Genie for being the conduit through which many of my dearest friends came.
Then, of course, there’s Terri – my oldest friend in the world. I’ve known her for 44 of my 48 years. She’s one of those kind of friends who, it doesn’t matter how long it’s been since we’ve spoken, when we do, time has stood still. We pick right up where we left off. She’s traveled the world-literally and done things in those adventures that I can only dream of but would be too chicken to undertake. Backpacking across Europe at 18 comes to mind. I’ve found, the older I get, the more I realize that God always gives us at least one friend through whom we can live vicariously. Terri is my vicarious friend! I’ve gotten to piggy back on her adventures through her retelling of them, and felt as if I was right there with her in some instances. She’s saved me a lot of travel expense, but the sights that her eyes have seen leave me envious at times – not in a covetous way but more along the lines of wishing that I’d have had more of a wanderlust spirit like she has. I appreciate passion, and Terri has always had a passion for it. It’s one of the things that I appreciate about her.
Then, there’s my A.B. who was put in my life so that my universe wouldn’t seem so, oft times, singularly chaotic, because we always jokingly said we shared parallel ones. She was also put in my life, I think, because God knew I’d needed an angel here on earth. That’s what she is to me: my earth angel. It’s also what drew us together – our love of angels. She is a friend who I don’t have to necessarily converse with to know what she’s thinking. Do you have a friend like this? We can both look at something, then at each other and our eyes take over the conversation. Those kind of laughs are the best – when people look at you and another person who are laughing but haven’t said a word and wonder what wonderfully funny thing it was that they missed? Some of my best laughter is shared with Karen. Some of my best times have featured her. One of my greatest blessings has her name written on it.
When I speak of angels, I can’t forget my true angel-friend, Sheri. She left us much too soon, but for the 38 years that she walked among us, I and her family give thanks. She was my Jr. High School best bud - the one I tried my dreams out on. I knew if I told her what I hoped to do with my life and what I wanted to be, that if she didn’t roll on the floor in hysterical laughter, that I might not have been too far off the mark. Sheri never laughed. Ten years ago, the Monday after Thanksgiving in 2001, my mother called to tell me that Sheri had been diagnosed with cancer, and they’d given her roughly four months to live. There have only been a few times in my life when all the air was literally sucked right out of me. That was one of those moments. It gave me pause. It was information that my mind didn’t know how to process or grasp. It suddenly put everything into perspective for me and made me realize what a precious commodity time is. I began to write to her weekly, reminding her of things that we had done as kids and things that she had said to me, because my mother had told me that she was trying to put together a journal for her daughter, who, at the time, was only four. Just four. God, my heart still breaks at the thought of THAT reality. Prayer takes on a desperate tone when you’re pleading for someone’s life. I had a lot of desperate prayer that year. I didn’t mind doing 10,000 knee bends for Sheri. Some things are worth that effort. The friend she had been to me...well, she was worth it.
I remember immediately sending her a teddy bear - one that I had gone and carefully hand- picked especially for her. I hugged it so tight - one of those "squeeze your eyes shut" hugs that contained all the love and positive energies I could muster, because I knew that she was in the fight for her life. When that time comes, a person needs all the positive reinforcements they can get. I told her that the teddy bear was my church’s symbol for God’s unconditional love for each of us, and that I wanted her to have a bear because I knew that sometimes in life, we all need a little something extra to hold onto and cry into, when we’re sad or scared. There’s something comforting in having something like that beside you when you’re having just such a moment. Her mother told me that she took that bear with her a few times to her chemo treatments. It made me feel good to know that I could do something that helped her during that time - made her feel not all better, but a little better as she traveled down that tough road. I also told Sheri that I believe in miracles, and told her to hang onto that thought because a miracle was out there for her. We had all hoped and prayed that the miracle would be a complete healing, but, sometimes, God’s idea of miracles and ours are different. Sheri was a beautiful flower, and God wanted her to decorate his garden. I can’t blame him for that. Beautiful flowers are young and vibrant. That’s what Sheri was. She lived eight months longer than originally given with her diagnosis, and therein was the miracle.
Her mother told me after she passed how much my letters had meant to her. I wrote her every week or 10 days, even if it was just a card that I signed with love attached. She appreciated my letters. She’d laugh and wonder how in the world I’d remembered those details from so long ago? Sheri would remember them too after I’d brought them back to the forefront of her mind in the vivid detail that I’m known for recalling. Then, it all came back to her too. Her mother said she marveled over my memory. I get that a lot. It makes me smile.
The first anniversary of her death, I remember getting a card from her mother. She had been going through a box of Sheri’s things and found a partially written letter that Sheri had written to me but not finished.  For whatever reason, she hadn't been able to throw it away.  Her mother sent it to me. What a gift. What a blessing it was to learn that, during that most difficult journey of her life, she considered me an extra special one. The amazing thing about Sheri’s illness is that it brought people together in prayer who had never met her. Yet, when I mentioned to my MDF family that I needed special prayers sent up on Sheri’s behalf and for her family as well, they joined hands with me and prayed for her and her family that entire year. The last week of her life, when my mother called and said the time was at hand, those friends held vigil with me for five solid days praying round the clock for her peace–peace of mind-peace from pain-peace for her family. It is amazing to me how blessings don’t just enrich our lives but strengthen them as well. I suppose Sheri has been heavy on my mind because she passed on November 22, 2002, and that date is during Thanksgiving week this year.   It doesn't matter if the anniversary comes Thanksgiving week or the one after.  I never forget her.  I never will...
I’ve mentioned before that I’m a big believer in signs. Well, I am. I met Mattie "J. T." Stepanek a year later on November 22^nd. Oh, that young man was a love light - a true love light! I wrote about him in a separate blog entry - my third actually called "A Heartsong for Today". Mattie was a special blessing to this world – his message of love and peace coupled with his wisdom exemplified just how true a statement that is.
I shared Sheri’s story with him the day I met him, and he shared a few stories with me about his own losses, namely his brothers and sister. He spoke with an assurance and a comforting knowing that better things lie ahead in a place far grander than this. I have never forgotten that. When I count my blessings, I count that experience high on my list and Mattie as well, because it was, as I said to my husband when we left him, that I knew what it was to be in the presence of an angel. I had just experienced that with Mattie Stepanek.
Then, several years later I would receive a special blessing in my life tied again to the date November 22^nd. It was the day when my doctor was born hm hm years ago. I don’t know how many of you appreciate your doctor. I adore mine! She has been a blessing in my life of super-duper proportions! When you begin to have "Tin Man" issues, like I have, and it’s not because I have no heart, rather I need an oil can to grease the cricky wheels of my challenged body to get me going most often than not, at this point. Given that fact, it’s a blessing to have a doctor who is right there ready, willing and able to re-fill said oil can when needed. It’s a blessing to have her admit that while I’m getting a little rusty in some of the old ball and joints, I still shine, for the most part, real pretty. She’s given me lots of scripts over the years, but that one is the most important. Another one is this: when I have moments of value-certainty, because I don’t always consider myself a gold or silver nugget at this point in my game, she’ll shake her head and, in essence, get this figurative message imparted to me: "Okay. So, you don’t feel like you’re gold today. Or silver. Do you know what the going rate for tin is these days?" [It’s almost $8 a pound.] Now, that won’t get you a wild adventure in Paris, mind you, but you can have a high-flying time at Disney World with a price like that – place extra ordinaire for good times and all things magical. Now that I think of it, I think I like that idea. When you look at me, think: she’s a magical trip just waiting to happen! ;-)
Dr. Pam. Seriously, she makes me feel better about myself. As my father would say, she makes me believe that I’m in pretty darn good shape for the shape I’m in! You hold onto what sounds good. Right? I do. I hold onto this thought: Dr. Pam is a BIG blessing in my life!
As I continue to count my blessings, my grandparents come to mind. I had the best grandparents of any kid in the world! That’s MY story anyway, and I’m sticking to it! They were funny, and the endearing thing is that they didn’t always know that they were funny. They were honest and caring. I felt REALLY loved when I was with them. They were unique and original. As previously written, they taught me a lot about life and what’s important. They were important to me. You know someone truly mattered in your life when they are alive, well and constant in your heart. My heart is full with the love and gratitude I feel for having been given the gift of my grandparents. The best....they were, quite simply the best grandparents. Thanksgiving was always a special time for us. Their visits brought many joyful moments to my childhood. I sing high praise for them today.
Jeff. Big brother. If you’ve not read my blog entry about him [He Ain’t Heavy, He’s my Brother], I’ll try and condense it down for you. He’s a character. He was when we were young. He’s every bit one as we’ve grown older. We didn’t like each other very much when we were young. It was that older-younger sibling dynamic at work. He was my irritant; I was his pain. There were six years that spanned our ages, and we had little in common back then except our last name. But, I always remembered something my aunt once said: "you two are like peas and carrots [she said this about me and my sister too]. You’re both sweet in your own ways, and you have no clue how much you compliment each other!" As I’ve gotten older, I’ve begun to realize just that fact: we compliment each other in unique ways. He has become a friend, not just my brother. I am his white sheep of our family, and I’d don’t mind, so much, that classification any more. His comment means that he holds me in esteemed light, and that’s always a good thing. He’s one of the first people I’d call if I found myself in trouble and needing help. It’s not a statement I make about many people.
Pamela Lynn. My sister. Pam is the person who taught me at a very early age about sharing and boundaries. When you share a room with your sister, you must learn the importance of those two things. Fortunately for me, I did. She’s another one who I didn’t become close with until I got older. It often happens when you, meaning me, are the square, studious one amidst a family that had a cool eldest son and a cool eldest daughter. Let me just say this: I’ve never considered myself square. I’m more the short, round type but I’ll grant that I was studious as a kid. Still, short, round and studious people know how to have fun. I’ll never forget when Pam said to me once when we were in our 20's, "if I’d known you were this much fun when we were kids, I’d have paid more attention to you!" Trust me, through the years, we’ve made up for lost time. Like my brother, she teaches me things. She is a grace note, even if she’s never completely believed that about herself. I’ve learned about compassion from her and resilience. I bought her a book once, for her birthday, called Sisters. It was a compilation of essays about famous women and their sisters coupled with a photograph. The last page of the book was blank. It seemed an odd ending to a otherwise fantastic book. It screamed to be filled. I took it upon myself to complete it. On the last page, I put a picture of my sister and me, and wrote my own essay about our sisterhood. I put a quote at the top, which she found funny and was true. It said, "you can tell your sister off in four languages, but if you ever need to borrow a quarter, she’ll lend you a quarter..." Yeah. That’s about right...no matter what, there’s always a quarter in my purse with her name on it.
Speaking of sisters. I was blessed with a second one though we don’t share a blood line. She came into my life when I married her brother. We didn’t start out as good friends. We evolved into that, and there’s many positive things to be said for personal evolution. It started out more like being in separate corners and assessing the other. Kathy was the baby sister and only sister in a family of four children, and I was the "intended" to a brother who she was very close to. It took us a few years to carve out our niche in each others lives, but she is a good friend now. I don’t think of her as an "in-law". I only see a sister when I look at her. She is also one I’d call first when in need because I know that she’d drive 500 miles to get to me if I was in need. She brought Elmer into our lives. For that alone, I can never repay her! As Martha Stewart would say, "it’s a good thing!"
Daddy. I have a few special Thanksgiving memories about my father. Some make me laugh more than others. One in particular involved him regaling the table about stories regarding his children. The "L" word figured prominently. It’s become a treasured memory – brings about MUCH hearty laughter.  The things he said at times and the way he said them...well, those who knew him know what I’m talking about. My father was a real character too. Did I say that about my brother?  Ah well.  It's true. The tree and his apple...lines blur between them sometimes.  Jeff said something to me the other day, and for a moment, I thought I heard my father speaking.  I hear a lot of my father in my brother’s voice now. Tone. Inflection. Things you take for granted when they’re present in your life. Once they leave, you’re left with the memory of their sound. Fortunately for me, I’ve got a good memory, and the sound of my father’s voice is still vivid and clear. I’ve been thinking about him a lot the last few days. I’ve had those come-and-go weepy moments that occur when a loved one has moved on, and we’d give anything just to hear "I love you too, Sug!" one more time...or see his face or feel his hug...to sit around the Thanksgiving tabe and break bread one more time. My father and I – as I grew older and more convicted in my own thoughts, didn’t always agree, but part of the person I am today is a result of his guidance and input. He helped to shape me – to pour the foundation that supports my beliefs and values. For the person I am today, part of the thanks goes to him for examples set and lessons taught, not all perfectly but every one tinged with his human*ness. Within his human*ness, there was grace. That was the blessing of my father. He, too, taught me many important things, namely a special verse of Amazing Grace.
Mother: One sweetest name of love’s refrain. She’s been with me the longest – I’ve been connected to her for more years than I’ve been connected to another living person. There is a profoundness to that thought. Our mothers are the only people with whom we share a true physical connection, where our bodies are literally inside theirs – attached to them. It is the nearest thing to earthly divinity. Man...when you’ve got a good mother that’s half of life’s battle right there. You’ve got a built-in advocate, cheerleader, therapist, advisor. If my mother were a candy bar, she’d be the $100,000 Dollar bar. Anyone remember that candy bar from the 70's? It’s Nestle’s chocolate with caramel and puffed rice – all the good stuff rolled up into one incredible sensation. That’s my mother.
Chuey and Elmer. The Princes of Virginia. Who knew that two little rascals could bring such jubilant chaos into our lives? They are my heart smiles and my love lights. I am the best thing since Wonder bread in their eyes. I believe that about myself where they’re concerned. What could be better than that? It is a glorious thing and a REAL ego booster for a little body to break out into a vigorous and uncontrollable shimy-shake of pure glee when you enter a room. I am 24 k. gold or .925 sterling silver in their books. They still hold me in that light on my "Tin Man" days. Tender mercies. I speak of them a lot. That is a big one right there, and it’s given to me by two dogs who have no clue than I’m physically less than what I was six years ago. All they know is that in the love department, mine is greater than anything they could ever have hoped to have found in this life. Kathy jokes that if there is such a thing as reincarnation, she hopes to come back as my dog. It makes me smile. If you don’t have a dog, and you can afford one, I highly recommend it. It is the best therapy you’ll ever pay for. The giggles are endless. The adoration is non-stop and the love is big. BIG love. That’s what you get when you’ve got puppies in your house; in your life; in your heart... Double thanks I give for them.
Tom. Last but certainly not least as I run through my list of blessings. He’s the man who took a mayonnaise jar and made an arrangement of fireflies that actually sparked when you turned a switch on at the lid. Can you imagine the delight in receiving a gift like that for a romantic like myself? I remember when I was in school, I read a poem by William Wordsworth called, Surprised by Joy, that spoke of a heart’s best treasure. He’s mine. He’s been making my heart go pitter-pat for 22 years. I don’t just love him. I like him. I remember once praying in gratitude and thanking God for giving me my true like-love. I don’t know how many of you believe in soul mates, but I do. It’s easy to believe in something that you’ve found–that you have. I know at this time of year, I’m especially thankful for the blessing of him and a good, strong, solid marriage. His hand is always there when I reach for it...sure and steady like my parents prayed I’d find. My mother is the one who told me, back when I first told her about him, that he sounded like a keeper. Yes. He’s a keeper. My father is the one who proudly boasted to friends, "he’s a helluva nice guy!" Yes. He’s that too.  Rich blessing, my Tom....I hope he knows it always...
Their are other blessings in my life: There’s Aunt Judy, Jackie, Ginny, Doris, Bonnie, Carolyn...so many more stories for so many other days. But, I remember them all on this one...
Thorton Wilder once said that "We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures." Today, more than any other day of the year, I’m acutely aware that my heart is a treasure chest that is abundantly overflowing with blessings. Today, I am ALIVE, and I give thanks for each and every one...