I wasn’t going to write a TToT, there is a chance I may not even complete it now that I’ve decided to begin, BUT, I need to focus on being thankful – I’m a wee bit on the pissy side and I really need to change that. No one likes it when I’m pissy. I don’t like it when I’m pissy.

Reading a handful and a half of other TToT posts inspired me to sit my butt down and write. So there ya are – I am thankful. Thankful to each and every one of you who take the time to share the things you’re thankful for, even when you might be in the midst of one of those weeks yourself. It makes me feel connected and less alone. Thank you.

Today I cried. I’m thankful for that, I needed a good cry. I didn’t need the stuffy nose, puffy eyes, and headache that immediately followed, but I’ll not dwell on those – the cry felt good, it was cleansing. In the midst of my melancholy, I did something so entirely out of character for me – I reached out to a friend. I messaged her just so someone out there knew I was losing it and she helped me pull it together. Thank you my sweet Lizzi. I am thankful for you. And Xanax, I am thankful for Xanax as well.

I’m thankful for the glorious rains falling on my little corner of the world this week. I can’t help but think those precious drops of rain began to fall as much to nourish my soul as they did to nourish the land. I let my tears rain down right along with them, and like the rains cleanse all they touch, my tears cleansed me as well. So very thankful.

My daughter passed her finals and will soon be a certified EMT, she’ll continue, perhaps, onto paramedic training. We’ll see. She is young, She’s been a cashier, a firefighter, a student, and now she stocks the ambulances she may soon be saving someone in. My youngest son, my baby, will be eighteen this month. He drove me to Walmart yesterday. Their older brothers are making small strides of their own. Thankful is not nearly a powerful enough word to express my gratitude for these children I’ve been blessed with. My heroes. This week I wished they were little again, the feeling was fleeting, but it was strong. I miss the little ones they once were sometimes. No, thankful is not a powerful enough word.

I’m thankful for coffee. Silly thing to include, but I truly am. Especially the cup my husband brings me every morning before he heads off for a long day of work. He doesn’t have to do it, make me coffee every morning, but he does. That is really rather sweet, isn’t it?

Soft and snuggly blankets, books I don’t want to put down, words that reach across the miles and wrap around my heart, bedtime, music, empty laundry baskets, and silence – I am thankful.

Thankful and not quite as pissy as I was when I began . . .