This Thanksgiving you know what I’m grateful for? I asked as I snapped my boys’ carseat buckles.
Max and Jack, I answered as I kissed each of them. They were such good boys at the grocery store. Thanksgiving shopping was a breeze.
What does grateful mean? asked Max.
It means to be so happy about something it fills your heart with love, I said. I always surprise myself by flustering answers to what should be easy questions. It’s like when we say thank you.
Oh.
What are you grateful for?
God, said Max in an instant.
I’m grateful for everything, beamed Jack.
Not to be out-done, Max clarified, I’m grateful to God that we can celebrate everything.
Cue mama’s tears.
Because there are all those times I wasn’t the best mom. Those tiny failures that happen when patience is lost and gentleness is forgotten. Those days when not enough stories were read. Those days when we hustle and bustle, but hardly manage to cuddle. Those days that seem like they’ll never end, but are gone so fast.
Those days ache in my heart when I peek at them sleeping and wonder if they felt enough love?
Could they ever?
God and everything.
Yes.
Leave a Reply