You know, most of the constants don’t change.
I’m still glad about having parents who like me, siblings who don’t resent me, and nephews and nieces who take advantage of my generosity. I wish I was older and richer, so I could spoil them better.
I’m still joyous over my dogs: Isaac and Tess, guardians of the home-front. I’m happy for the way Izzy comes when he hears Tess’ name because he thinks that Tess means food. I’m happy that Tess still sneaks on the couch when she doesn’t think anybody’s looking. And, I’m glad for my brother’s dog, Day-z, too. I like how she’s worn a hole in the blinds by sticking her nose through them, cause she just can’t stand not knowing what’s going on outside. Dogs are terrific. Dog society makes sense.
I’m happy about upward mobility, and how I have the chance to attain it. Sure, I complain about school, but not everybody gets the chance to go to University. My family is solidly working class, and I will be solidly middle class, and perhaps, someday, my children or grandchildren may even be upper class. The American dream still lives, and that’s good.
I’m glad to be living when I do, in a time with corrective lenses, indoor plumbing, central heating, cars and airplanes. I’m glad I had a chance to go to Europe this summer on one of those airplanes, and speed through Dublin and Paris in taxis. I’m glad I met real, live Europeans, and had the chance to compliment somebody on their accent, and be complimented by somebody on mine.
I’m happy I’ve got friends who’ve continued to tolerate me. In the past year we’ve flown kites, sang songs, watched movies, rode roller coasters, taken pictures, eaten Greek food, danced in living rooms, been initiated into perverted clubs, played miniature golf, gone tromping through the forest, drank alcohol, and made big plans for the future. Some of which we’ll maybe even follow through with.
I’m still glad for the kidney my mother and father share. I’m glad for the fact my mom’s gotten disability, because she genuinely needed it. I’m happy my grandfather’s still making his way, even though he’s in the hospital today. I’m glad we’re eating the fried turkey this year that I swore I’d never allow, because it makes my brother so happy.
I’m glad I broke my glasses last night, so I could remember for a while what it feels like not to be able to see. I’m glad I’m not so rich that I can’t remember what it’s like not to have enough. I’m glad I’m not so poor that I don’t have to only remember.
posted by Sarie @
12:05 PM
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