Seneca, one of the great Stoics, said,  “Many times has wailing for the dead been heard in my neighborhood; many times have the torch and the taper led untimely funerals past my threshold; often has the crash of a falling building resounded at my side; many of those whom the forum, the senate-house and conversation had bound to me a night has carried off, and the hands that were joined in friendship have been sundered by the grave. Should I be surprised if the dangers that always have wandered about me should at some time reach me? The number of men that will plan a voyage without thinking of storms is very great. I shall never be ashamed to quote a bad author if what he says is good. Publilius, who, whenever he abandoned the absurdities of farce and language directed to the gallery, had more vigor than the writers of comedy and tragedy, among many other utterances more striking than any that came from the buskined — to say nothing of the comic curtain’s — stage, has also this:  Whatever can one man befall can happen just as well to all.”

 

And this passage makes me realize I have much to be grateful for.

For this I am grateful this morning.  When I rose from my bed, my feet did not ache with pain.  For that matter my Achilles heel was intact and my feet and all of my lower extremity muscles carried me with ease to my sink and shower.

My oldest children were all happily sleeping, none of them was taken from me by a horrible auto accident.  All are young drivers, two of them drive late at night for work.  I get to see them one more day.

My youngest son is sharp as a tack despite a tough beginning to his life.  I am proud of him.

My youngest daughter is energetic, inquisitive, alive, and alert.  She has not been in a coma for months or even years.  I am allowed to partake in her child-driven joy.

My wife is in love with me, this I know.  She is vibrant, physically beautiful and witty.  I was able to hear her voice, her breath, to feel her warmth.  When I awoke this morning, she was by my side.  It was her alarm that woke me.  She slammed the snooze button in perfect form.  She intentionally wakes to teach my children at home, because she cares for them with all her heart.  For this I am grateful.

My family, in general, is intact.  All well…one more day to share with them.  One more moment to ask them “how are things?”

I turn the water handle and it runs with potable water…I can drink straight from the faucet any time I want.  I feel the 72 degree low humidity air around my body.  It is easy to breathe.  The electrical grid supplies me with one more day of luxurious comfort.  I earn enough in dollars to pay for it.  Furthermore, my lungs feel healthy and strong.  I have not smoked very much…I am glad to have missed that addiction.

I click on a coffee pot, that will brew the beverage I love so dearly.  So many laborers who grow, pick and deliver those beans to me from so far away.  Such craftsmanship in electrical appliances necessary to partake in this special drink, that livens my senses and comforts me all at once.

I see the light on the pot.  I see…with both eyes.  Four years ago I was struck with a condition which left my left eye partially blind for six months.  I am grateful for retinal specialists, doctors, and pharmaceutical companies for their work and care.  I am also grateful for the little luck it took to get my eye back to full vision.  I can still detect the remnants of the condition, but it is wonderful.  The remnant is a reminder of how temporary being able to see can be.  Today I can see.

I am grateful.