The Thanksgiving List 2012

Every year there are specific, unique things in the year that make me feel blessed and joyous at Thanksgiving, like the dance I had with my husband last holiday. This year the car accident in late September made me aware of big and small things, beside my left lung and self-repairing ribs, for which I am grateful this Thanksgiving. They are in no particular order.

Flowers from my friend Holly

Friends

Friends are beautiful people. They gather up your kids amidst confusion and anxiety, and they shelter them, feed them, distract them, and comfort them. They surround your kids with love and make them feel safe after a traumatic event. They babysit on last minute's notice.

And they throw an evening pizza party with your kids and the friends they've grown up with like cousins; everyone gets ice cream and plenty of play time outside and your kids get an excuse to be free from worry and gloom.

Flowers from my friend Ignacia

Then they come to see you in the hospital or at home, bearing gifts (or sending them with your Man) like Wise Women - magazines, toiletries, cozy socks, books, flowers, meals for the family - and you feel loved.

They listen to your heartache, and you are grateful beyond words that they accept your tears and offer their strength.


First Responders, particularly firefighters

My little girl Ella and my boy Danny were hysterical those first several minutes in our battered vehicle. When the firemen showed up my children became instantly calm. The firemen were so cheerful, so cool. They had my children speaking about their seat belts and teddy bear. I listened, comforted myself, and to me the abrupt switch was miraculous, incredible. I know the firemen helped in managing my injuries, but it's how they took care of my kids when I could not that amazes me and makes me truly, deeply thankful.

Big Bird 

Why I'm grateful for Big Bird you can find HERE, a small part to play but an important one at a fearful and lonely moment.

My brother Nate and sister Natalie's flowers

Trauma Surgeons

It's like first responders. You really don't understand what they can do, what they do in terrible circumstances, until you need them. Then you are astounded you didn't ask for an autograph while lying on that damned backboard. These people save lives. My collapsed lung was easily dealt with, but I am not fooled about what they face on any given day - trauma far worse than my own.

These skilled doctors have invested years of their lives to gain the education and experience in order to preserve health in a crucial hour. They are the Lab-coat Crusaders - the ones who get too little sleep.

And my doctors were kind, too, God bless 'em.

Bruce Springsteen

I have listened to Disc Two (saving Born to Run, I don't care for Disc One) of The Essential Bruce Springsteen several times in the past two months. For a reason I don't understand, Dancin' in The Dark especially captured my emotional turmoil post-accident...or how I wanted to feel about it. The repeat track of that song carried me through depression, and the rest of that album is great, too, for lifting you out of low spirits. Thanks, Boss.

From my Man's co-workers

While You Were Sleeping

While You Were Sleeping is a romantic comedy starring Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman. It has always probably been my favorite, but it holds a special place now. I watched it twice in that first week after I got home. Sweet, feel-good cinema...it let me relax and not think. Plus, I kinda relate to Bullock's hapless character and to the guy who got attacked at the subway and ended up in a coma. Kind of. I guess a coma is worse than my accident experience. Still, it's a movie very lean on violence and negativity and heavy on lessons in love, family and friendship. And you can't help but love Bullock in this role. Just what the doctor ordered.

My Man

When I first got home from the hospital, I was crabby. That's putting it mildly; unbalanced is probably more accurate. It got so bad one day that as I was saying grace over my afternoon meal, I added a plea that God would help me to be kind to my husband whom I was treating pretty badly. The thought had barely escaped my mind when a picture came into it. I saw my husband bending over me with softened face and red, swollen eyes as he clutched my hand, the way he looked when I first woke up from my chest tube surgery in the hospital.

Roses from my Man

I have never had a prayer answered that fast, ever. It goes to show that if you ask for the right things, God will always answer you - and promptly. The rest of that day I embraced my husband, said I love you, and told him thank you for all he did while I was in the hospital and after I returned home.

Family

My children could have been injured in our accident, and they weren't. Ella and Danny, who were in the van with me, processed everything much better than I thought they would. I am so thankful. And all of my kids helped take care of each other and of emotionally-fragile Mama when she came home.

My siblings and parents and my extended family, all far from me geographically, kept their thoughts and prayers with me. My dad and mom talked me through some things, and I am very grateful for all of the love that came my way.


And My Father was at my side in the hospital. I will always have the memory of what that felt like.

My Salute to Firemen

No, this isn't going to be that kind of post. Sorry, ladies.

This is about how my respect for first responders has grown. It's one of the things I thought about first when I saw the pictures after Hurricane Sandy of a whole region of people traumatized by nature's fury. I listened to the journalists talking about first responders fighting impossible conditions to do their job, leaving their own devastated homes behind, and thought again how society is fortunate people freely choose this taxing profession, investing their time and talents to learn how to save others' lives and property. Their jobs are not easy, but they have great potential for good even in the smallest everyday rescues.

Several years ago my good friend accidentally locked her keys and her baby in the car and in a panic had to call 911. The firemen came and calmly got her precious baby out of that automobile, and then they felt the child's forehead.

"It's OK, ma'am," one of them said to my friend as he handed her daughter over. "She's not even hot yet."

It was over in a manner of minutes, but as the firemen left my friend gazed after them thinking, My heroes!

And that's what happens, you develop a hero-worshiping complex once you've experienced first-hand what these steady souls are capable of. You see a group of them shopping in the supermarket and you nudge your kids, so you can all stare at them sidelong and knock into the soda display with your shopping cart. You want to say, "thank you for your service", but that doesn't seem quite right, and you don't expect they'd accept your kids' Halloween candy as a token of gratitude, either (though you wish they would).

It's a selfish thing, but my own admiration for these heroes-in-trade increased a thousandfold when my family had need of their skill. Forgive me, I'm going to use those words again. After the accident I heard them comfort and calm my children, and to me it was miraculous how quickly my children went from emotional anarchy to talking about their teddy bear and seat belts. The firemen's cheerful tones calmed me as well, and my trust was complete when they told me, "Ma'am, we're going to remove your children from the car." I never saw their faces; all I remember is voices, cheerful, kind, capable voices.

Since then I've run into a couple of women who told me their husbands are firemen, and I went all gushy, asking them to please thank their spouses for what they do, telling them what a great thing they did for my terrified kids.

I can't ever repay them for what they gave my family in our time of need, and that's not the point. All I can do is thank them and then thank God that they do what they do so exceptionally well.