Lessons in Gratitude

Tonight’s lesson in gratitude is a guest post from my youngest kid, Michal “MJ” Jones. Enjoy.

It has been a long, trying few months. We can seldom predict what lies ahead, regardless of our efforts to plan out what we have envisioned and hoped our lives would be. I have experienced many challenging transitions in the past few months – relocating, being out of my “academic bubble” for the first time in decades, and struggling to find work that I value and that values me. My mother has often made the reference of “riding the mechanical bull” to describe life’s twists and turns – all I can do is hold on as best I can and attempt to enjoy the ride. In spite of recent challenges, I find myself feeling extremely fortunate for the gift of family – near and far, blood and chosen. Where would I be without them?

As I reflect on the challenges I have handled in recent times, I am in deep, deep gratitude for both of my parents. I have lost count of the times I have called my mother with my voice wrought with tears of panic. Each time, she has responded with the same calm, warm reassurance: “Everything is going to be alright, sweet pea. We are not going to let you fall.” In the midst of her own trials and tribulations, my mother always finds time to lend support. She would write this off as simply “what mamas do,” but I know that, as far as mamas go, I couldn’t be luckier.

Yesterday, I had the unexpected pleasure of hanging out with my older brother, Jared. We are both not the best at making plans – we have not lived in the same area for many years, and are still perhaps getting used to the idea – and I was pleasantly surprised when he called me yesterday requesting a spontaneous adventures. As we drove to the Berkeley Marina and sat in front of the water exchanging deep thoughts, I felt a sharp sense of presence and clarity. He drove (okay, flew) us up the winding roads of Tilden National Park, and as the ground became more and more distant, I was reminded of my mother’s same, soothing message: “Everything is going to be alright.” I am grateful to my brother for being the person he is, and for the fact that we are kinder, gentler humans than we were growing up!

Earlier this afternoon, I was fortunate enough to get a call from my father – as always, right when I needed it. He has been ripping and running and traveling all over the country and world for work, and still took the time to call me on his layover in LAX. My father rarely expects anything from me on these phone calls, he simply listens, offers important perspective, and provides much of the same reassurance my mother does: “Keep us in the loop and go after what you want. We’ll support you.”

In my younger years, I struggled to see my immediate family as functional; as what I understood families to be. My parents separated when I was very young, and I am still understanding the significance of that event in my adult life. I viewed our family as broken for a long time, but have since come to understand our situation in different terms. We all remain connected. We support one another and give everything we can to hold each other up. We do the best we can. We lean on one another. We rack up countless hours on the phone line loving, supporting, and arguing with one another! The roots of my family’s generosity and love still pleasantly surprise me.

I am in deep love and appreciation of my family this evening and every evening. Not only have they linked arms in a web of support to lift me up – they are uproarious laughter, comfort food, kind gestures, generosity, loyalty, and sacrifice. And on the next day I am doubting my own worth, or frightened of what lies ahead, I will remember my mother’s voice: “Everything is going to be alright, sweet pea.” And so it shall be.

Outside the wind is howling for the third straight night. There is something in the way my house sits in proximity to one next door and another behind me that creates this wind tunnel effect that generates the howl. Today I was out in the wind, raking leaves, trying to predict when it would gust so I could rake the leaves in the direction it was blowing. Occasionally, of course, it blew things back to places I’d already raked, but I’ve long since given up the need to get everything up, especially since one need only look up to see how many leaves still remain in the trees. I am grateful to have been productive early–I had done an number of important household tasks, including laundry and leaf raking–before noon. I then headed down to my eldest sister’s and her husband’s home to have brunch with a bunch of family.

Four of my five siblings were together today–a rare occurrence to be sure. I realized, somewhat belatedly, that we had failed to take any pictures at our gathering, which is kind of silly. I usually am so much better about doing that, but for some reason forgot to today. I am often the family chronicler of such events, so find myself a bit miffed that we didn’t take a single photo to mark the occasion. I suppose it didn’t occur to me to take my camera. This wasn’t a holiday or a birthday or special event, per se. One of my brothers and his wife and son came out this weekend for a football game. Their daughter lives here and so it was an excuse for my eldest sister to host today’s brunch. My four siblings and their partners and two each of my nieces and nephews all gathered for a sumptuous gourmet-like repast. Before we ate, we joined hands in an oblong circle to say our family grace that I’ve said my entire life.

As we started into the prayer, my voice broke and for a moment I couldn’t speak for the tears in my throat. I felt, as I often do, a sense of love not simply for the individuals gathered there but for the family we are, the collective group and the love and support we have for each other. In spite of the fact that I took no photographs to mark the gathering, these moments, these days etch themselves in my consciousness to be recalled at a later time. I looked around at each face, at our hands clasped in each other’s, and said to myself, It is good for us to be here. And so it was.

I will always be grateful for my family. I feel amazingly blessed to continue experiencing the love and connection to my kin folks and feel sad for others who do not feel connected to their siblings and parents and extended family. One of my nieces commented today about how well all of the cousins get along, in spite of them not seeing one another regularly. “I think it’s a testament to the relationships you have,” she said referring to me and my siblings. “We’ve picked that up from you.” If she is right, and I have reason to believe that she is, then the next generation will likewise experience closeness among and between them. I certainly hope that is true. I can think of few greater gifts we can give our children than that of strongly bound family ties. At the end of the day, it simply doesn’t get much better than that.