Breathless

Confession time!  Well, actually, this isn't much of one because anyone who knows me, knows this.  I hate to drive.  Really, it's more than hate; it's more like downright fear.  I avoid it at all costs if I can.     That being said, I think that when I'm driving, I do some of my best thinking.  That's exactly what happened today as I was heading back from a late lunch and staring out the window.

Most of my friends are doing Thankful lists on Facebook this month.  I decided not to do one mostly because I keep a list in my purse of all the things that make me happy (see previous blogs) so I feel I've got that covered.  Nonetheless, I was contemplating my life as I drove back, belly full of lettuce and raspberry Coke Zero.  For what am I thankful?  Always at the top of my list are the usuals: Drew, my parents, my sister and her family, my house, the fact that I've lost 50 pounds.  But under the usual stuff,  for what besides current list of 402 things would I like to say thanks?

A myriad of a million small moments started playing through my head.  It was the kind of scene that one thinks of when they imagine the playback of their life.  That's when it hit me:  what I'm truly thankful for are those little moments in my life that have caught me off guard and have taken my breath away.  I'm thankful for those Thursday's when I was blindly moving along through my life and then something so extraordinary happened that I got chills throughout my body.

For the most part these events happened in regular places at regular times with the exception of when Drew told the Cast member at Disney World that she smiled when she talked and I watched a young lady swoon at his words, realizing I had an amazing child.  But, that kiss that I had where the boy started out by missing my mouth and biting my lip before laying it on so hard that he made my knees--and my heart--weak, that happened in front of my dresser in my bedroom, not in a castle or on a yacht.  The night that Drew turned over and whispered, "I love you," in his sleep and melted me into a big puddle wasn't a holiday.  I think it was just some old day in January.  And, some of my best realtionships have begun because of arms on the backs of couches or moments spent on the porch, not because of an elaborate date.  It's the little breathless moments that make the grand gesture.

I've had enough moments where my life was brought to a screeching halt because of tradgedy or heartbreak.  Those times are easy to remember.  Today, I want to dwell on that whole collection of Tuesday afternoons that could have been nothing but for one little moment, stood out.

This year, that's what I'm most thankful for.