Grateful

Sometimes when I get a little melancholy, I like to make a mental list of the things that I am thankful for because it cheers me up. There is another blog that I read, and the girl who writes it often puts her lists on the blog. I have been thinking that would be a good idea, then I can look back for reminders when I am so low that I can't think of anything to be grateful for. Today, here's my list:

• I am thankful for God's presence in my life, that He is always around when I need someone to talk to but don't want to unload my baggage onto anyone else. He is there when I am in a crowd having a blast, and He is having a blast watching me. But He is also there when I am in a crowd and feeling as if I am completely alone. I am never completely alone, because He is my constant companion, my friend no matter what I've done, and my guide even though there have been so many times that I've ignored His "advice". He is my savior, because He has so many times saved me ... from myself.
• I am thankful for my children, even on the hard days when there is a part of me that wonders why I ever had children in the first place. I look into their big blue eyes (Teenybop's a little more green/grey, and Piglet's sometimes so deep they are almost purple), and I remember the days they were born, the first times I got baby hugs from them, and the way no one can be to them what I have been or will be in the future. I am thankful for the lessons they have taught me about my life and about myself. I am thankful that I am able to have my own children in my home, watch them grow, and know their innocent love in spites of all my many flaws.
• I am thankful for my best friend, whose blog I would link to but it seems to have been abandoned these days, while a new job keeps her so busy that she can barely afford the time it takes to breathe. I have known her longer than I didn't know her ... We met in fifth grade when I was ten years old, and because I had some health issues that were embarrassing and often used against me by other children she was one of the first people who chose to look past those things and befriend me, the new kid at school. She surely could have chosen another friend and would likely have been much more popular for it. But she chose me, and we have been friends ever since except for a few years in between when we were out of touch but she was still on my mind. I hope I was still on hers. Now, we are very much back in each others lives and there is rarely a day that goes by when one of us doesn't feel the need to text or call the other. I can't imagine my life without her in it, and she is the first person who taught me that sometimes your "family" doesn't always share your blood. I have adopted my sister the way some women adopt children, and have never regretted it ... even through the Brian times. I hope that I am able to be as good a friend and as strong a support to her as she is to me.
• I am thankful for Private Ryan who was young (for a guy) when we met. He was 22 years old, I was 21 and a newly single mother to my young Teenybop. We grew close fast, and it wasn't long before we were telling each other how hard we were falling even though we steered clear of "the L word", having both been burned in the past. Soon the cat was out of the bag, "the L word" was spoken, and he eventually told me how crazy it made him that my Teenybop called him by his name. He wanted her to be his Teenybop, he wanted to be her "Daddy". He hated her father, couldn't understand how a man could simply walk away from his own child. Private Ryan and I talked for a while about it, talked about how young he was, about whether he was sure he wanted to really seriously take on a child, whether he wanted to really be "Daddy" to a child he could never be "Father" to. Was he sure he wanted to settle down? Because I was already settled and didn't want some young dumb party boy. He was sure. And he became "Daddy". For that I will always be grateful to him, for reminding me that being a mother didn't have to be a bad thing when it came to being a woman. That I was still wanted and lovely ... and worth it. He may not be perfectly "grown up" yet. He may have his flaws and his drawbacks ... but don't we all? He leaves his clothes all over the places, he has a nervous habit of chewing on his shirtsleeves and any other fabric he can get a hold of, he hates to shave because it takes time and effort. He forgets to clean up after himself, and he sometimes says he will do something and then puts it off until he forgets and then it never gets done. But he took on a mother and child like it was no big deal, he couldn't be scared off (though I tried in the beginning), and he is still "Daddy" even though being with me has hurt his relationships with some of his snobby family members who think my being a single mom from a poor background made me unworthy. These days he is still proving himself, his interest in me, his integrity and his intentions as a family man, doing something some men would never do ... to provide for a family he isn't even legally obligated to. He may still be young man, but he is certainly a decent one.