Angst and Gratitude
November 5, 2023
Gratitude is a dish best served with angst. Hear me out. It’s easy to be grateful when things are moving along smoothly. You don’t have to examine your life too closely when the bills are paid, your hair looks great, and the dog hasn’t pooped in the hallway for weeks. When you and yours are healthy, happy, and thriving, you could sing about gratitude while twirling around on top of a mountain (think Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music). But you don’t twirl during those times because you’re already so satisfied. A serving of gratitude isn’t something you’re grabbing from the buffet. Sure it tastes great, but you’re not hungry.
*If you are in a twirling-around-singing-on-a-mountain phase of life, I’m happy for you. Stop reading this and go dance! If you’re in a very stressful and angsty place, stay here and grab a plate.
When I found out I had cancer, I can assure you “grateful” was not the first feeling I felt. Fear, worry, sadness, shock…not gratitude. Last week when my husband Jeremy thought he was constipated and instead ended up hospitalized with diverticulitis complicated by an abscess? “Grateful” was again not the first feeling I felt…please refer back to fear, worry, sadness and shock. When I thought I was over the effects of radiation treatment but then developed edema, lymphodema and cording…grateful? Not so much. When hospital bills keep showing up after I thought we were all caught up? When gigs get canceled? When potato chips are $7.49 a bag? When I see my daughter exhausted but we live too far away to be helpful? NOT GRATEFUL. Definitely not twirling on a mountain singing “My Favorite Things.”
But here’s where I remember the happy part, the part where I get to visit the buffet. I found a steaming tray of gratitude for the routine medical screenings that found the cancer before it got out of control. Gratitude for a medical team and treatments that lead me to survivorship. Gratitude for the kindness, support and love from all over. Gratitude for the scans that found the problem in Jeremy’s gut, the antibiotics that cured it, the knowledge that this is a manageable thing (and, of course, grateful I got to say, “I told you you needed to go to the hospital!”). Grateful for the insurance that has covered so much. Grateful for time at home (even when I’d rather be working that canceled gig) to write this thing you’re reading. Grateful for potato chips being so expensive that I’m not tempted to buy them. (Ok, not tempted to buy TWO bags.) Grateful to have the technology to Facetime with my daughter every day to at least steward her through, all while getting to interact with my grandson on camera. Honestly, if the angst never showed up, I never would have tasted the gratitude, REALLY tasted it and gone back for seconds (maybe thirds and fourths!).
OF COURSE it would be great if we never had to experience the yucky stuff. Duh. But that’s not how life works. My faith (and my love of buffets) has led me to eat from the gratitude tray a lot this year. And you know what? I’m full, too full to twirl.