Must I REALLY Count My Blessings?

I need to be more grateful, but I'm afraid. It sounds silly, but it has its roots in a real life incident.

Kate was about three months old. It was our first spring in our house here in Cedar Hills, and it was early enough in the spring that the warmth still seemed part magic and part miracle. Bruce and I were going on a date, but we took a few minutes beforehand to sit out on the front lawn with Kate and the dogs. It was a perfect day- we sat on the lawn of our home which we were so happy to own; we had our daughter with us; we felt the warm sun on our faces; the dogs played. Bruce remarked how perfect things seemed; how lucky we were; how many blessings we had. And then things changed in an instant. In the very next moment, our dear dog Rusty was struck and killed by a passing truck. We tried to save him, we raced him to the vet, and he hung on for a little less than day, but in the end he couldn't make it. We brought him home to bury him, and by then the spring day was gone, as was the little bubble of security that we had felt surrounded by, and the rain drizzled down around Bruce and my brother Dan as they dug a final resting place for our dear companion.

Even today, 5 years later, I am afraid. I'm afraid that if I start to list my blessings, Heavenly Father is going to say to Himself, "She's right. She does have more than any one person deserves..." and then there is going to be some great and terrible accounting and then things are going to get snatched away.

Kate is terrified of the basement. I think basements may be a universal fear for the 3-7 year old set (even without an uncle who invents a full time basement resident named Chompy the alligator). Today I was folding laundry when Kate came shrieking out of the basement family room in terror. I consoled her for a minute, and then she asked, "Mommy, what are you afraid of?" For some reason, I couldn't even come up with a spur of the moment facetious answer (Carnies. Excess Hair. Big Foot. Anything.) and instead answered with the truth. I said, "Kate, I live in fear every day that something might happen to you, or Kiki, or Daddy, and I would lose you." "Well," Kate said in her most helpful tone of voice, "Who do you love the most?" as if prioritization NOW could somehow avert some grief in the future if I could console myself that at least I had lost my LEAST favorite family member.

But I can't be afraid. I know this. If I acknowledge my blessings, even if they are lost, at least I have some documentation that I once had blessings. I'm taking a leap and crossing my fingers that Heavenly Father doesn't have my blog on his favorites list. I 'll start with this brief list:

PEOPLE: I am thankful for my family, friends, and neighbors. There are too many to name and that alone is proof that I've been blessed. I am also thankful for my awesome husband and my two girls. They are the most important things in my life.

MOMENTS: In hindsight, the last perfect moments with Rusty were a blessing. He was a happy dog right to the end, and if any reader here thinks I have assigned too much meaning to a mere dog, let me say this: You are up in the night because he meant something to Bruce and I, and that's all that matters.

Another moment that I am grateful for happened when I delivered Kiki. It had been a terrible pregnancy, and I was so relieved that it had finally come to an end. I was so happy to have my baby girl here, and the first time I held her I got the most profound feeling- "Your family is complete." I have been so lucky to have had that moment, because first, I really do not have the stamina for another pregnancy, and second, I have been able to truly savor Maggie's babyhood. I have known that I will not hold another newborn of my own, and that has been a gift. I have rocked her, smelled her, squeezed her, and all around tried to memorize everything about her, and I have been saved from some regrets. While I know I haven't been a perfect mom, I do know that I did not let her infancy slip by unnoticed.

THINGS: Things are unimportant in comparison to people and moments, but I must add a few. I'm grateful that Bruce has a good job. I am grateful for our home. I am grateful for the following: Diet coke, salads, Mr. Clean Magic Erasers, soft sheets, jeans, my Danskos, cold cereal, the gym, buttercream frosting, date nights, sunshine, the UPS man, my DVR, Target, books, the newspaper, my savings account, and lots more. I'm also grateful that I can cook. I was thinking about that last night (odd, since my mom cooked our dinner), but I'm so happy that my mom, dad, and Grandma J. thought good food was important, because I love sitting down to a delicious meal that I made (or someone else made...).

Now, I'm just going to sit back and wait for all heck to break loose...