SLICE of Life: I am Thankful
A Prompt I Won’t
Paula Bourque’s prompt for Slice of Life, Day 3 was “What Will You Miss When You Die?”
That’s so strange to wonder because I just won’t exist. I won’t miss. I will just return to something before I was. I envision each of us as a line in time, vibrant and colorful, sharing the wonder of each of us while still remaining the instance of who we are. I think about the idea that in ancient history, we did not exist, but we began. And each of us are endings, yet who we are carry on in the stories and influences of those around us. Except that climate deniers prevent us from carrying on and on in our little rock near our sun; each line of life will finally end.
A Prompt I Can
So, I can’t write about that. But I can write for ten minutes, considering the idea that, at age seventy in the era of the super-viruses and climate deniers, I am thankful for each day, as soon as I awaken in my very pleasant and privileged life.
I am thankful for that light from the sun in whatever sky appears that day: blue, grey, cloudy, windy, rainy, stormy, hot, cold. I am thankful for the apple tree outside my window and the creatures that live upon it— the little insects and bugs, the birds and the bees, the sound of their buzz and the melody of their songs.
I am thankful for the sound of coffee grinding, drawing me to the strong hands of my husband guiding the beans and their aroma; he, standing with ruffled hair, airbuds tuned to a podcast or book, always learning, and always smiling with a good morning hug as we begin our day together.
I am thankful for the home that shelters us with running water and electricity, a connection to my friends and family on the internet, and that wild torbie cat who has accepted us but will not let us too near. I am thankful for each little pet, pooch and feline, whose gift of companionship stays in our memories.
I am thankful for a refrigerator filled with vegetables and dairy from a local grocery store that cares about the community.
I am thankful for the canopy of our sycamore in the backyard, it’s immense leaves reminding us of the cycle of seasons and the ways of nature and its creatures that find a home in our naturally growing tumble of previously planted and naturally spreading greenery, all adding to our feeling of freedom with clean air and water, with shade in the heat of summer, and pleasant colors in the coming of autumn.
I am thankful for the echo of memories flooding through with each moment in our little yard, of our grandchildren running and playing and singing and reading and painting and acting and hugging in the summers of their youth.
I am thankful for our children, the proud and loving parents of those grandchildren, now living and loving through their time on this lovely planet earth.
Ten minutes just begins my thanks each day, for every moment of it I now find so much of which I have been fortunate to have lived and touched and loved in my story line of life.
About Climate change:
10 Things You Can Do to Stop Climate Change [David Suzuki]
About the CoronaVirus
SIFTing through the Fake News about the Virus:
Don’t panic: be informed. Share your knowledge — the facts to help, like ripples of hope in this new darkness.
PROMPT: Write for ten minutes about “I am thankful…”
Crosspost at AskWhatElse