Gratitude

Last week a deep freeze blanched our autumn leaves, reducing their flame hues to ashen version of their best selves. Within our walls, a flu bag (H1N1 or a related intruder) similarly bleached our joyous Indian Summer spirits. The applesauce-making and leaf-collecting habits of our days halted by fevers and ear infections, we huddled inside watching shivers of snow hurry by the windows.

I kept my spirits up for a few days by holding on to a sense of gratitude. I felt gratitude for health care, kind pediatricians, prescription-strength cough syrup and a warm house.Honey and hot tea also got us through the weekend. When I finally succumbed to a lesser version of our virus, gratitude got lost in a hurry. Warm, fuzzy feelings are hard to sustain when all you want to do is put on the warm fuzzies and go to bed.

The world lost a few shades of color, the end was no longer in sight and my sense of joy had gone completely missing. Where did it go and how had I lost my 'attitude' of gratitude so quickly? In the fullness of my thirties I have come to the realization that a sense of gratitude can really affect my day. Two years ago I lost someone who meant a great deal to me in my teens - he died at the young age of 37 and the news shocked me. One of his close friends received this quote from him in his last days - I don't know if he wrote it or if it comes from another author so forgive the lack of citation:

"Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life. It turns what we have into enough, and more. It turns denial into acceptance, chaos into order, confusion into clarity.....It turns problems into gifts, failures into success, the unexpected into perfect timing, and mistakes into important events. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace today and creates a vision for tomorrow...."

Many writers have penned meaningful quotes on gratitude but the above lines mean the most to me as they come from someone whom I loved and who suffered. It knocked me breathless to read these words, knowing that he struggled and that he lost much of what I am grateful for today.

I walked slowly to school yesterday, fighting hills and phlegm, yet feeling a familiar glow start in my chest (unrelated to congestion). Gratitude for the warmer weather, for my children back in school and for a few remaining brilliant leaves, caught me up and changed the color palette in my head. When a leaf slalomed through the air in front of me, pursuing wildly placed unseen gates on its way to the ground, joy leapt up. I think gratitude stokes the embers of joy, keeping us warm and ready to spark with appreciation whenever the fuel is placed right. The flames themselves are impossible to sustain but the coals can keep us warm even when the deep freeze strikes.