gratitude-a-thon day 2057: no collusion, but hope


Disgusted, disappointed and nauseous from the findings of Robert Mueller, I went to see hope last night.

Tickets bequeathed to us by a traveling colleague of my husband’s led us to Symphony Hall to see Pulitzer Prize-winning John Meacham. Sadly, I was not acquainted with this brilliant, funny and articulate Southern gentleman until last night. And that is too bad, because he was like that first perfect spring day that descends on Boston right after you think you can not take one more minute of winter, or else you will barricade yourself in a sauna at a fancy gym, or move to Miami.

Meacham is a historian and writer. Not normally what I would think of as a funny kind of guy, but he had the crowd rolling on the floor with his spot-on impression of both George Bush’s, 41 and 43, plus several other stories that were told with wit and humor.

Meacham’s pitch was that this isn’t the worst time in history, that we’ve been through plenty of presidencies that have divided us, but that we as a country have not only made our way through those times but actually thrived. And he wasn’t spinning tales for the sake of uplifting the audience, he was simply telling the truth.

This man is crazy smart,  in a way that didn’t overwhelm, but instead fostered curiosity. He was a balm of sorts, pulling out historical antidotes of misery worse than what’s happening today. I’m Kindling up his new book The Soul of America: The Battle for our Better Angles as soon as I finish writing this. It is dubbed as “#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER • Pulitzer Prize–winning author Jon Meacham helps us understand the present moment in American politics and life by looking back at critical times in our history when hope overcame division and fear.”

I feel better. Trump is still president, yes, and while he didn’t collude with Russia, he’s not out of the woods yet, in terms of obstruction and then there is the many investigations of the Southern District of New York. But as Meacham pointed out, we’ve been through worse and risen up stronger. This is my hope. And gratitude for that.





gratitude-a-thon day 2056: community

Sometimes when I have a lot of writing work, I neglect my blog.

Sometimes when I have a lot of emotional stuff going on, I neglect it, too.

Sometimes I have both and then, it’s just forget it. I mean, we here at the gratitudeathon (meaning me here at the gratitudeathon) have strict rules (not at all), so if we need some time off, we just take it.

Anywho, my gratitude runneth over lately. In short, Sam, a boy I watched grow up with my son, a neighbor and superstar athlete and student was in a skiing accident and broke his back and is now a paraplegic. This brought me to my knees. I was thrown by it. It made me question life and all its random ass-ness.

But here’s the gratitude part. Our community has rallied in a most lovely way. A fund for Sam has raised almost $80,000. I arranged a dinner sign up so the parents wouldn’t have to cook, and people filled up those slots in no time, flat. Everybody wants to make this transition easier, everybody is pulling for Sam. And this, in the time of Trump especially, made me feel a deep sense of gratitude that the best in people came out here, that kindness is alive, that community matters, that we are all we’ve got. And that’s a lot.

Sam, by the way, has always been exceptional, and so it’s no surprise that he is crushing the rehab game. He seems to be taking on this challenge with the grit and determination he has taken on every other thing in his life. He’s kind of amazing.

And so are his parents, who are positive and by his side. This is nothing anybody wants to have happen, but you just have to love Sam and his family for their attitude. And I do.

If you’d like to give some money, it would be so appreciated and extremely well spent. Plus, you would become my favorite person in the entire world. There’s no amount that’s too small and there’s no amount that’s too big!

Gratitude x 8,087,209,012,984,987 for this community I live in, for Sam’s positivity, for this family’s example.