In Giving Thanks
Here it is, another Thanksgiving. (Where, oh where, has 2021 gone!?) This is the time I sit and reflect, and assess what needs to be done to end the year on a satisfactory note, not just for me but for those I can affect, either directly or indirectly. Those I love and care about deeply move to the forefront. As time rolls on, I am losing my loves much too quickly. These last few years have taken away both of my beloved dogs, a beloved uncle and a much too long listing of people who lost the battle with COVID. A nagging little fear is always hovering for the next notice of a passing. The fear is not necessarily a bad thing—it absolutely makes me a nicer person. I refuse to end a conversation on a bad note, or a frown, or an unnecessary judgement, because it may be the last time we spend together. In this time of COVID, many people have had to take on the burden of regret, with no chance to make amends. Our society is and will continue to suffer as a whole for this. The worst part of the disease is the lack of closure, of a final touch with kind words, so that there are no regrets.
Even without our pandemic, it’s not a bad idea to always be grateful for those we care about. Not only our spouses, parents, pets, and children, but also those people who enrich our lives in many small ways that we typically do not think about and who leave small or large holes when they are suddenly gone. That hole can exist in a state of disquiet if we have not treated them the best we can.
So, my morning list now includes things I need to do for others—directly or indirectly affecting some aspect of their life. Perhaps I’m overthinking, even meddling? As a wife and mother, I have victims to smother with unneeded and sometimes unwanted attention in aspects of their lives they are capable of handling all by themselves, thank you very much. A pause in thought and action can help me figure out if they really need my help or am I just being a “busybody” (that delightful word that says it all). But…they are my family after all, and I reserve that right:)
And then, just this morning I read a post from a FB friend whose most loved one has died. My greatest wish for her is that their last time together was filled with love. I hope she meddled in all the right ways!
Others— friends and acquaintances— can be honored without the daily attention, but with our heartfelt thoughts and a big thank you for being a part of our lives. This year, I would be remiss if I didn’t dwell on my writing life, and mention those who have supported me as I stumble through it.
I worked with a thoughtful editor who guided and advised me to final draft completion; thank you Kase Johnstun. He insisted this was a story to be put out into the world.
My Beta readers shone a light on what will happen out in that world of readers; all their opinions differed:
Too many historical facts, more personal stories!
Love the history; it’s a nice foil to all the personal stories.
Love the voice in the child stories!
Love the transition.
Don’t like the transition.
Not enough trauma!
A lovely, heartwarming story.
All gave me hours of their time in reading and commenting. I used many of their suggestions. And I love them for caring enough. A big heartfelt appreciation to Marty Jones, Mike and Denise Archer, and Liz Curtis. My siblings Jackie Weaver and Patrick McKrill corrected me on a few things and enlightened me to others. A writing colleague line-edited the entire book, bless you, Marcia Bilyk. My dear friend Nancy Hagel who has to put up with my rantings and hair-rending when my emotions clamber out of their strongholds as I continue to query, thanks for your patience and willing ear. Lastly, my dear family in Germany who braved my inquisitiveness and allowed me to lay their stories bare.
I offer my gratitude now, because we don’t know what the next minute, or hour… or year, will bring.
