Is it ever too early to give thanks?

I have so much to be thankful for. My family is healthy, physically and mentally. We have a home, jobs, pets, and enjoy each other's company. We laugh a lot. We volunteer. Life is good. It is something that is so easily taken for granted. An old childhood friend killed himself on the morning of 10/31. I went to the visitation to say goodbye, and to hug his family, with whom I still see and socialize with on occasion. I hadn't seen him since our 20 year reunion in 2004, and while I have a group photo with him in it, I didn't even realize he was there until after I had printed the picture. I have been struck trying to comprehend the magnitude of the void he felt in his life, the sadness, the hopelessness, the pain that would make such a permanent solution be the only choice left to him. When I think of him, he is always 13. We are always talking dirtbikes. His strawberry-blond hair is always hanging into his eyes. He has freckles, and he wears OP shirts. I don't want to remember him smashed beneath the wheels of an 18-wheeler on Oxnard Blvd.

So we spent the Veteran's Day long weekend out in the desert. A lot of my family on my dad's side were there, and Jess and Malin joined us, too. We celebrated an early Thanksgiving on Saturday, by deep-frying a turkey with all the trimmings. The motorhome was too small for everyone, and I was hot from cooking, so I sent everyone outside to eat, not realizing just how chilly it was out there. I'm pretty sure everyone got at least one serving of hot food before it began to get cold! We shared campfire time. We ate well, we laughed alot, and we were just TOGETHER. That really is the most important thing of all. I was having too much fun to take any pictures. The girls had a blast on the quad, and the boys were out on their dirtbikes most of the time.

We got back Sunday evening, tired, but we all pitched in and unloaded and tried to get organized for the new week. I picked up the stack of newspapers after the kids went to bed. I read the engagement and wedding announcements, like I always do. And then I realized that I am now of the age where I will probably be recognizing more names in the obituaries than in the engagements. I missed Pat's funeral, partly because I felt like the visitation service was enough, and partly because I had a lot to do to get ready for the trip. I know it is okay with him, though, because when I was throttle wide-open on the flats, I remembered him, and I knew he was at peace, and I smiled.