I was sitting here today, having done the laundry and about to start the rest of my chores, when a thought sailed into my mind. Man, am I glad I’ve known tragedy in my life.
Now, most of you must think: “Is she out of her ever lovin’ mind? How can you be grateful for such a thing?”
We all know tragedy, to some degree. I don’t think we get out of life without knowing sorrow, angst, and pain. Maybe it doesn’t get to you until you’re in your 80s, but it’s going to get to you.
I am not saying that I’m happy I lost people I loved or that I’m grateful terrible things happened to me. I am happy that I learned from them, that they – strangely enough – made my life richer.
I will never take the love I feel for my son for granted. I will never assume that my good health is a given. I will never fail to appreciate my vision or the fact that I can walk. I will forever be grateful for my life, for breathing in and out, for seeing a sunset, for being able to cry, and to laugh. I will forever be happy about being safe or without pain.
I’m grateful, too, that what I’ve experienced in my life has helped me to understand what other people feel. If I can translate my understanding into words on a page, what a blessing that is.