Gratefulness

I will admit it. I cried all the way through Grey's Anatomy last night. Part of it was relief that I had an excuse to cry after a particularly soul-confusing day. Part of it was great acting by the cast. And part of it was the reminder of reality. Watching George (whom I love) say goodbye to his dad way before he should have had to do so...well it reminded me that I don't know when my own turn will come.

In those moments, I realize how really grateful for my parents I am. I pick on them. I roll my eyes. I shake my head. I pick fights every now and then. That's what kids do. As I used to tell them, "Should have thought about that before you had me." But for all my picking and eye rolling and argument starting, I love them and don't like to think about the day when I can't pick on them anymore.

This morning, as I listened to Money Matters on the radio, I heard the hosts talking about teaching kids about money. And I remember the day when I was about six and Mom sat me down in the living room and started me on a one dollar a week allowance, all paid in dimes. She taught me to make envelopes (yay! a craft project!) for tithe...and savings...and spending...and vacation...and Christmas. She taught me to divide up my dimes and manage my money all year long. Because she did that, she taught me a great skill that I still use today. (Thankfully work doesn't pay me in dimes.) I've learned that a lot of people my own age are skilled at credit card use, but not at budgeting. I'm grateful she taught me that.

I'm grateful that Dad told me Bible stories every night before I went to bed and that he let me take quizzes (when I was in kindergarten) alongside his high school Bible History students - and I beat some of them. I'm grateful they both taught me to go to church unless I was puking, no matter if I felt like going. I'm grateful they stuck to their convictions even when their choices were unpopular and no one understood them. My convictions are sometimes different from theirs, but at least I know how to stick to my passions.

They taught me to go to work - to be early and stay late. They taught me to treat my possessions well and to love the underdog. They fostered my love of reading and writing and respsected my wish (eventually) to quit playing the piano. They sacrificed so I could go to a college I couldn't afford and even let me take Lloyd (the really old car) when I moved on campus.

Dad loves his grandcats and Mom tolerates them. They have let me grow up and be me. And for all of this - I'm grateful.