I actually had to count the days since I started my month of gratitude.  In twenty-eight days, we will see the first day of 2015 and the first day of the second year of my personal journey.  I’m counting down 2014 by engaging in the opposite of complaining — expressing gratitude.

Today I’m grateful for everyone whom I have encountered in California in the last two days including the taxi driver whom I am very sure planned to over-charge  me but who cheerfully conceded the point when I told him what I had been advised to pay.  He flashed a lopsided grin and agreed to accept the lower fare.  For a brief moment, an acknowledgment of his essentially dishonest intent crossed between us.  I admired him for the tacit concession.

Every other person whom I encountered here has been overwhelmingly helpful.  I would attribute their attitude to California sunshine but it has been raining steadily until the last hour.  From the clerk at my hotel and the “doordash.com” delivery woman to the prestigious specialist whom I saw in the Infectious Disease Clinic at Stanford, folks here have gone out of their way to be pleasant, forthcoming, and courteous.  The guest services employees at Stanford deserve particular note and I did write comment cards about several of them.

And don’t get me started on how grateful I am to Renee Menuet Kahl, who drove an hour last evening to have dinner with me.  Such effort bespeaks a person of enormous character and goodness.  Her presence and the four hours which we spent together capped an astoundingly enjoyable trip.

As I write, the scene outside my hotel room exudes serenity.  Lush vegetation on the hotel courtyard testifies to several days of uncharacteristic rain.  I see a small table on which I would be sitting to write this, were it not wet from the recently ceased showers.  But I don’t mind.  NPR plays on the radio, and soon, I will finish packing and head to the lobby to await the shuttle.  In my handbag, I’ve stashed several Kashi bars provided by the hotel along with the free light breakfast and Starbucks coffee.  One does not often get to have two days of unbroken positive experiences.  Even if the treatment plan devised here by the ID folks and the neurologist does not help, I will carry the feelings which rise within me for a very long time.  To the extent that positive thinking has power, my health stands a chance of improvement.

Which, after all, was the goal, eh?

Renee Menuet Kahl and me, taken at Celia’s in Menlo Park, CA, 03 December 2014.

Everywhere that I went yesterday, I met people on cell phones and laptops and tablets, hammering away with intent looks.  I heard one woman make three calls to people whom she called “baby” while her two children stood in front of her drinking whipped-cream-laden drinks from Starbucks.  I joined the foray, with my laptop, the little 7-inch tablet that we got free from Google Fiber, and my smart-phone, each providing distraction, convenience, or notifications in their turn.

This barrage of modernity prompts me to be grateful for the times when I sit talking with friends, oblivious to the chimes of text notifications, the ding of the e-mail program as it receives updates, or the recurring blips from Facebook.  Oh, don’t get me wrong.  I am grateful for technology, too:  Including Facebook, which has given me a chance to reconnect with many people from long ago, keep tabs on my family, and share my friends’ lives when circumstances prevent face-to-face contact.  But today I feel thankful especially for the quiet times when I sit beside someone, listening to their account of their day, reaching out to touch their hand, feeling the warmth of their gaze and seeing the curl of their mouth as they smile.

I am particularly grateful to still be alive to experience the splendor of human contact.  I wrote an essay over 40 years ago entitled, “The Virtue of Pain”.  I theorized that we needed pain to appreciate pleasure.  Perhaps in a similar way, we need the hustle and bustle of city-life and technology, to provide contrast to the simplicity of analog experiences.  Today I find myself thankful for both; but more for the times when no little flashing gadget stands between me and the person with whom I am conversing, or the music I am hearing, or the stillness of the room around me where I sit and reflect on all that I have been given.

I realized that I incorrectly titled the December 01st entry “NYE-31” and have now shifted the time-space continuum to reflect that it is 30 days until 01 January 2015 and the official end of  my FIRST year without complaining.  It is Day Two of my Gratitude month.

Today I am thankful for all the folks whose combined efforts have landed me here in Menlo Park, CA, where I await the dawn of the day on which I will be consulting with the ID doc at Stanford.  Those responsible for my presence here include my primary doctor, Gary Thompson of Midtown Family Medicine, who wrote a 12- page referral packet; Jim, who financed the trip; my neurologist Arthur Allen who wrote a lengthy letter to the neuro-clinic which agreed to see me on short notice while I am here; the medical records folks in various doctors’ offices who worked hard to get my records out here; Alan, who is baby-sitting the law office while I’m here; Jessica, who is house and dog-sitting and doing all the Holiday Open House stuff that I should be doing; Jane, who took me to the airport; and Katrina, who is picking me up at the airport.

And a special thanks to my sister Ann, who created and e-mailed a “to-do” list for the trip, to calm me down and help me focus on the bright side of this adventure.

Perhaps I sound like a broken record, thanking people right and left.  But I’ve gone 59 years without showing my gratitude as much as I now feel comfortable doing.  In this incredible year of personal growth, I’ve learned to express my appreciation for the efforts of others at times and in ways that I never imagined that I could do.  I’ve also learned to ask for help and to receive it without feeling as though I am deficient for needing assistance.

A lovely woman wheeled me from the gate where our plane landed about a mile through the San Jose airport and across the parking  lot to the shuttle.  I’ve struggled to make that walk at airports around the country.  My sister suggested that I just get help.  I’m glad that I did.  I vividly recall being hot, sweaty, and exhausted when I’ve hauled my carry-on over similar distances.  What a difference it makes not to struggle through crowds on shaky legs!

The shuttle driver practically lifted me into the bus, and a young woman jumped over the middle seat into the way back to yield her prime spot to me.  Through it all, I never had the sense of being weak. I just felt as though some kind persons were reaching out to help someone whose legs don’t quite work.  I never cringed; I never shrugged off an offered hand.  I accepted what they gave and expressed my gratefulness.  My heart filled with joy.

It’s a wonderful feeling.

The pocket angel that Jane Williams gave me at KCI this morning carried me safely to San Jose.

Today I am thankful for all the people who have shared their children with me, including Jim, Chester, Mona, Katrina, Ross, Scott, Paula, and Sheldon.

I wanted to have a large brood of kids, but God dictated otherwise.  I had a total of four miscarriages and one live birth, my son Patrick.  But in his childhood and beyond, many children have come into this household and I have had the honor of cherishing them.  I have not always done as well by any of these kids as I would have liked, but I love them all, and the list includes Kim, Tshandra, Cara, Mac, Jennie, Caitlin, Chris, Maher, Sam and Abbey, along with the child of my own, Patrick.

These young people enriched my life with their laughter, their love, their trust, and their wildly creative ways of viewing the world.  Some of them still grace my life; and some have grown away from me.  But I hold them all in my heart.

I’m going to add pictures of just a few of them; and on another day, I will post more.  This blog is a bit limited so 2 or 3 photos pushes the limit of what I can finagle it to accept.  But know that even if just 2 or 3 photos appear here, there are many more “shared children” who have given me happiness over the years.

So, NYE minus 31:  Gratitude, Day one:  I am grateful for the people who shared their children with me, and to the children (now adults) for letting me be part of their lives for however long that lasted.  “I keep their hearts in my heart”.  (e e cummings, adapted).

Kim Fariello, Bo Flaschoen, and Tshandra White

Jennie Taggart Wandfluh and Caitlin Taggart