counting blessings

I seem to spend a lot of my time bitching and moaning about how my life hasn’t gone the way I thought it would. Our move to Florida is not exactly what I had in mind.  I couldn’t find a job.  All my interviews seemed to end with a “we decided to go another direction”, meaning someone younger.  I still work on the house too much and don’t play enough.  I am almost a hermit.

Stop it!

I get to live in Florida.  I have the financial means to be okay if I don’t work, for a while at least.  I have a watertight roof to sleep under.  I have a swimming pool and a dock and a power boat and a small sailboat and a motorcycle and a wife who (for reasons unknown to me) adores me.  My children have good lives.  I have wonderful grandchildren.  I am in mostly good heath.  I can drive myself around.  I can be at the beach in 5 minutes.  I live on a canal.  Our dog is just as crazy as us, but so cute while being so.

All the things I seem to find to grumble about pale in comparison to the things with which I am blessed.  So what if the pool took 4 months to get finished and they had to re-do the boat lift three times?  I have a pool and boat lift!  I live in paradise.  I can ride my bike 12 months a year and not just one day a month in the winter.  I have had my share of disappointments and heartache, but I survived them all when some have given in and just given up.

It’s not just the material things that matter.  The people who have loved me over the years matter more.  I have never had a lot of friends.  I was  once described by a co-worker as anti-social.  I am, I admit it.  But I don’t need to be constantly surrounded by people to be okay.  I know how to be alone.  I can stand to be quiet and be around quiet people, nothing need be said to enjoy someone’s company.  I just need a few people once in a while to remind me that I am needed and wanted and my company is desired.  I have been touched by the way certain people have stood beside me despite my quirks.  It is easy to love some people, the rest of us are acquired tastes.

To those whom I have allowed to be close:  Thank You for letting me be your friends.  To my kids:  Thank You for forgetting and forgiving my lapses in good parenting.  To my wife, Thank You for sticking with me these many years.

To those who are alone and reading this:  you are not alone!  You are a part of this little family, my mostly anonymous circle of friends who silently read and hopefully feel a part; even if just for the five minutes it takes to read this.  I gotta go cook my almost-organic almost-fresh turkey and clean up my garage.  My best regards to you all.