Finding Gratitude on a Complicated Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving is supposed to be this warm, glowing Hallmark moment—families gathered around a table, everything golden-hour perfect, everyone smiling like they didn’t just argue over who forgot the rolls. Real life, of course, is a little messier than that. And honestly? I think that’s what makes the gratitude part even more meaningful.

Today I did something I haven’t done in two or three months: I opened my journal. The damn thing practically sighed when it saw me. But once my pen hit the page, the words spilt out. I didn’t write because life is perfect. I wrote because it’s not. I wrote because gratitude, at least for me, shows up the strongest when life feels unpredictable, overwhelming, or like it’s spinning a little faster than I can keep up with.

And this year? Oh, it’s been absolutely crazy.

But today, I wanted to slow down and acknowledge what’s kept me grounded.

1. A Home That Fits My Family—and the Courage It Took to Get Here
Five years ago, I did something terrifying: I bought a house. At the time, I felt like a kid putting on an adult costume two sizes too big. Making that kind of commitment felt wild. But now? I’m grateful every single day that I took that leap. My home isn’t fancy, but it’s affordable, it’s warm, and it holds my family. That’s a level of blessing I don’t take lightly.

Housing is becoming ridiculous. The world is becoming ridiculous. But my family has a place to live, a place that fits us, and that’s something worth celebrating. Even when the pipes make weird noises and I realize I’m the one responsible for fixing them.

2. A Hard Year… but a Connected One
This year has been heavy. Stressful. Full of loss. The kind of year that leaves you feeling a little worn thin around the edges.

But as I wrote this morning, I kept circling back to one thing I’m deeply grateful for: my father and my siblings. They’re all in Las Vegas while I’m here in Klamath Falls. Every year, when this time of year comes around, I have this tiny pang, like part of me is 700 miles away.

I miss them. I miss the easy conversations and the dumb inside jokes and the familiar energy that only family brings. But they’re doing well. They’re safe, they’re healthy, and they’re getting through life with their humor still intact. Considering the year we’ve had, that means everything.

3. A Warm Thanksgiving Meal in an Unpredictable World
Let’s be real: the world sucks right now. Things are getting more unpredictable and more expensive at an absurd speed. Sometimes it feels like life is turning into a game show—except instead of winning a pile of cash, you win slightly more expensive groceries.

So yes, I’m thankful for something incredibly simple: that my family has enough to enjoy a warm Thanksgiving meal today. Not everyone does. It’s not something I’m willing to shrug off or take for granted.

Comfort, warmth, and food on the table. These aren’t small blessings, they’re exactly the kind of ordinary miracles we forget to celebrate.

4. My Mother’s Final Chapter—and the Quiet Conflict It Brings
A tougher thing sat on my heart today. I recently found out my mother is in hospice and nearing the end of her long struggle with COPD. She and I have never been very close. Our relationship was complicated, and I won’t pretend otherwise. But hearing that she’s near the end… it landed heavily.

I feel conflicted, like grief mixed with distance, concern mixed with old wounds. Gratitude feels strange in the middle of something like that, but it’s still there. I’m grateful her suffering is being eased. I’m grateful for the people caring for her, and I'm sad my sister and brother have to watch. I’m grateful for the clarity that moments like this bring: life is short, fragile, and completely unpredictable.

It reminded me again to take better care of myself. My health is generally good, and I’m thankful for that. But with insurance premiums doubling next year, even staying healthy suddenly feels like a high-stakes mission. Many families are going to feel that strain. Many already do.

And Then There Was the Sunrise
This morning, I woke up very early. I drove up the 140 heading to Medford and sat at the dock overlooking Klamath Lake. I watched some ducks swim around for a little bit, and I took a photo of the sunrise. Not because it was the “perfect shot” but because it felt like a reminder. A simple, grounding truth:

Not everyone will get to see the sun rise today.
And some won’t live to see it set.

It wasn’t a depressing thought, just a clear one. A little nudge from life saying, “Hey, look around. Don’t sleepwalk through this.”

The sky was quiet. The air was cold, and my hands were numb. And for a moment, everything made sense. Gratitude didn’t feel like a list or a performance. It felt like a deep breath after holding in too many things for too long.

Today, My Gratitude Looks Like This:
– A house that shelters my family.
– Loved ones who are healthy and safe, even if far away.
– Food on the table in an unstable world.
– The complicated, tender truth of a mother reaching the end of her suffering.
– My own health, imperfect but steady.
– A sunrise reminding me to pay attention.

And on top of all that, family, friends, loved ones, and I… we’re doing alright. Not perfect. Not without struggle. But alright. And sometimes “alright” is actually a miracle in disguise.

Closing Thoughts
Gratitude doesn’t erase hardship. It doesn’t fix loss or soften every sharp edge. What it does, at least for me, is make the path feel walkable. It helps me notice the light even when the clouds feel heavy. It reminds me that I’m still here, my family is still here, and we’re moving forward together.

That’s enough.
More than enough.

If you’re reading this today, I hope you find a few things to hold close. Even small things count. Especially small things.

Happy Thanksgiving. May your day be warm, messy, and delicious!