Just because I want to be grateful

Early in 2017 sometime around midnight, I was stroking the back of my puppy while she lay on her side with her eyes closed and half a smile on her face as she does nearly every night before bedtime. This is one of our many rituals.  I sit on the floor with her, put her to sleep, and say repetitions of Hail Mary and Our Father for guidance and protection because the task of taking care of another life form is scary for me. And it occurred to me, “This is the happiest I have ever been.”  I had scars on my face, I couldn’t look at myself in a big mirror, I was always short on cash, everyone at work thinks I’m a weird loser, I was far away from the friends who don’t think so, but still, I felt so much gratitude for the kind of life I have been given. And I asked for one more thing, “Please don’t take away what I have. Let me keep them for as long as you can let me keep them.” Knowing that you have so much to lose makes life feel so large and wonderful and great and happy.

It’s not just the dog although I’m pretty sure she has tiny white wings beneath that chocolate fur. It’s the realization that I have it in me to wake up at 4 am to potty train a puppy, make enough money for basics like power and running water, and soldier through an office environment that reminds me of my social awkwardness and “otherness.”

And yet sometimes I forget. That’s humanity’s greatest folly: to sit in the midst of gold and still chase after what’s not there. Tsk. I would not be doing the Little Prince proud.  Just in case I forget again, here are the roses of my life:

Thank you for my mother who knows what I need before I even realize it.  What am I going to do without you?

Thank you for my funny baby dog who is currently humping every male dog in the street.  Babe, I don’t know how to tell you that that’s not how it works but I love the disregard for gender roles.  I raised you well.

Thank you for great friends who never stop listening. They say the world is an ugly but you make me feel otherwise. And I don’t want to be the only fabulous person around.

Thank you for fast fingers and good sentences.  You put food on the table and create a space for my head.

Thank you for the scars that help me mentally tag the bad, the good and the one-of-a-kind. You help me see more clearly, and spend my love more wisely.

And finally thank you for everyone else who can’t help but dislike me. I have considered changing for you, but at the end of the day, no. That energy is best invested in loving baby dogs who smile in their sleep.