Thursday, September 01, 2005
It's the little things
With everything that's happened in the past couple of days, I just wanted to be thankful for the little things.
I'm thankful that when I go outside, I don't see everything that I know and love completely destroyed by a force of nature greater than anything I could have ever imagined. I'm thankful that I don't see devastation everywhere I look.
I'm thankful that when I turn on my faucet, clean, drinkable water comes out. In fact, it's so plentiful that I use it to water my plants outside.
I'm thankful that when I tinkle or poo, and push down on the handle, I hear a reassuring "flush" as it all washes away.
I'm thankful that I'm not crammed into a large gaming facility without air conditioning, without working toilets, with a stench that can only be described as "indescribable."
I'm thankful that I still have everything that's dear to me: photos. Jewelry. Family heirlooms. Cats. Husband. Family.
I'm thankful that I can walk outside without fear of seeing a dead body float by, or worry about contracting some disease because the water I'm wading through is hazardous.
I'm thankful that I can put gasoline in my vehicle, even if it is over $3/gallon--because I have a car. I have money. I have a gas station nearby.
I'm thankful that I have the luxury of watching the horror unfold on my comfy sofa, with my faux fur blanket around me, and a belly full of chips & salsa.
I'm thankful for my Charmin Ultra to wipe away my tears as I hear about more people dying because they needed water, food, health care; to wipe away the tears as I hear of more looting, more deaths--not because of the reasons mentioned before, but because the looters have moved beyond food and water, and have turned to guns--and have then turned on their fellow man.
I'm thankful that tonight my husband will come home, crawl in bed next to me, wrap his arms around me, stroke my hair and tell me everything will be okay. Somehow. Someway. But it will be okay.
I'm thankful that when I go outside, I don't see everything that I know and love completely destroyed by a force of nature greater than anything I could have ever imagined. I'm thankful that I don't see devastation everywhere I look.
I'm thankful that when I turn on my faucet, clean, drinkable water comes out. In fact, it's so plentiful that I use it to water my plants outside.
I'm thankful that when I tinkle or poo, and push down on the handle, I hear a reassuring "flush" as it all washes away.
I'm thankful that I'm not crammed into a large gaming facility without air conditioning, without working toilets, with a stench that can only be described as "indescribable."
I'm thankful that I still have everything that's dear to me: photos. Jewelry. Family heirlooms. Cats. Husband. Family.
I'm thankful that I can walk outside without fear of seeing a dead body float by, or worry about contracting some disease because the water I'm wading through is hazardous.
I'm thankful that I can put gasoline in my vehicle, even if it is over $3/gallon--because I have a car. I have money. I have a gas station nearby.
I'm thankful that I have the luxury of watching the horror unfold on my comfy sofa, with my faux fur blanket around me, and a belly full of chips & salsa.
I'm thankful for my Charmin Ultra to wipe away my tears as I hear about more people dying because they needed water, food, health care; to wipe away the tears as I hear of more looting, more deaths--not because of the reasons mentioned before, but because the looters have moved beyond food and water, and have turned to guns--and have then turned on their fellow man.
I'm thankful that tonight my husband will come home, crawl in bed next to me, wrap his arms around me, stroke my hair and tell me everything will be okay. Somehow. Someway. But it will be okay.
