I Am No Longer Grateful

I’m not sure when it happened, this new disillusionment with the word grateful.

In context, it seems like a great word. Grateful. Gratitude.

But lately, it just doesn’t resonate. It doesn’t convey what is actually in my soul.

Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for my life and all it has to offer. But its more than that. Much more.

As a writer, words are very important. They spark a vision in people’s minds. When I think of grateful, I automatically think of Thanksgiving. Weird, but, you know, my brain.

I watched my grandchildren yesterday, playing in a blow- up pool. Not any blow -up pool, but one that has a slide, and a rainbow with a sprinkler head that sprayed water as it danced about in the sunlight.

I sat there and thought how grateful I was to be sitting on my new deck, after Sunday dinner, surrounded by family, watching as the two babies laughed, screamed, giggled, splashed, and slid for hours.

I was grateful.

But not anymore.

I am honored.

Yep, that’s my new word.

Honored to be a part of this experience. Honored to be a mother, grandmother, wife, mother-in-law, stepmother, author, nurse…you get the picture.

I think the word honor conveys reverence. Grateful to me is more turkey and stuffing.

Honored.

And I am honored to have you as my readers.

Thank you for taking a chance on me.