Mike Oliver writes frequently about life and health issues and his diagnosis of a fatal brain disease, Lewy body dementia, on AL.com and his blog, www.myvinylcountdown.com
It’s the little things for which I’m thankful.
It’s the little things that bring joy to life on this spinning sphere of mud, rock, and water.
I’m thankful for the red Maple leaf that spins to the ground like a ballerina.
A quiet lake with the sun powering through the clouds. I am thankful.
I am thankful for small observations that invite a deeper reality. Living in the world is both illusory and concrete, full of heartache and pain. From the head, the heart and the soul.
A roaring ocean with storm clouds gathering at dawn like hungry white wolves.
I’m thankful for the moments that defy life’s suffering. Roller coasters, trampolines and front porch swings.
Butterflies and zebras and moonbeams and fairy tales.
Handpicked blackberries in a cobbler, hot with a scoop of fast melting vanilla ice cream.
An after dinner Thanksgiving walk. Holding hands.
The rust-colored poodle who thinks he’s golden, running the house like a greyhound after being let in from the cold.
Lightning and thunder and the inherited primal fear of it, a tiny injection of prehistoric adrenaline.
Understanding that disappointment is a manipulative device with a pinch of well meaning, but misplaced, love.
Yellow and red leaves of autumn like stained glass in November’s leaning light.
Pancakes and maple syrup, carb loading on a cold day.
A sincere compliment that makes you smile and stumble.
Hot yoga, frozen yogurt and boiled peanuts.
Sonny and Cher singing I got you, babe.
My 20-something daughter saying ‘I know this song.’
I am thankful for the little things.
They add up.
To a bigger thing.
Amen.