While I can’t think of Thanksgiving without thinking about how the early colonists “gave thanks” to the Native Americans who helped them survive, I still like to spend time giving thanks and remembering just how much I do have to be thankful for.  And this year, I count many blessings and thank the gods for them.

I live in South Louisiana and I’m surrounded by the devastation caused by the recent hurricanes. We were relatively untouched, having only to shut down business for a couple of weeks.  Our secretary was not so lucky, but even she was at least lucky enough to have FEMA pay her losses. Now that FEMA has run out of money, not everyone is getting covered.

We’ve been scraping by financially, but now things are turning around.  That is a huge relief, and I cannot help but feel that there was some divine intervention on our behalf.  I have a very happy family life, a satisfying career, and I feel grateful for the guidance I feel the gods have given me.  The list goes on and on.

I saw something on a church sign yesterday.  And, yes, I do love to read them, mainly for the entertainment value.  But this one said pithily just what I was thinking.  It was that to give thanks, we have to do more than just say it.  To give thanks, we have to give.

I want to show my thanks to the gods, and I don’t feel the typical Thanksgiving dinner ritual really did it for me.  We just said grace, led by my evangelical brother-in-law, and ate some turkey.  It did nothing to relieve the ache to show the depth of gratitude I feel, not only to the gods but to family.  For example, my mother-in-law worked hard on that dinner.  I don’t think she knows how much I appreciate what she did for us all.

I think that is what true gratitude feels like: an ache in the center of your chest that comes with the realization that, as the triads say, you simply can’t pay back the debts you owe to your parents, good teachers, and the gods.  But still, you have to try.