Greetings and salutations friends, family and oft times casual readers. It is I, your ol’ pal the Madchronicler, back for another go ’round at my yearly, Thanksgiving rumination. Surprisingly, these little “What Thanksgiving Means to Me” compositions are a few of my most read, and had I realized that back in 2016 and 2017 (the only, two years since I started Random Musings that I didn’t write one), I would have made it a point to come up with something, however trite and uninteresting it ended up being. Moving forward, I will not make that mistake again. Whether you consider my pledge to never miss a Thanksgiving rumination hereafter a curse or a blessing is your prerogative. I won’t question it. To you, I’ll simply say “Happy Thanksgiving! enjoy gorging yourself on turkey, family and football.” To everyone else? I’ll say the same, and in the semi-immortal words of my former alter ego, El Autoro, “let’s get schazzy.”
I’ll not lie: This year has been and remains a bit of a bizarre one. It’s been a roller coaster, filled with ups and downs, lefts and rights, unexpected U-Turns and the occasional Jug Handle. Every good has been tempered by something bad and for the first time, arguably ever, one balances out the other. My life… my world has become a perpetual, albeit subjective Yin and Yang. The Dark Side and the Light. It’s been years since I’ve smiled this much, but it’s been years since I’ve cried this much, as well. Even last year–when my marriage was winding down–I was less emotional than I am now. In light of that and the last 11 plus months, what am I thankful for this year? I think I’ll start there and see what develops.
I’m thankful for the usual litany of things that most of us are thankful for: Family, friends, relatively good health, a steady paycheck et al.. I’m thankful for food in my refrigerator and a roof over mine and my minions’ heads. I’m thankful for my minions. I’m thankful for Heather, our relationship and for how she supports me regardless of my mood. Booyakasha, Sweetie. Respect. Insert huggy and kissy emoticon HERE. I’m thankful for the gifts that the almighty gave me which led me to publish my second novel this year which, I should add, is still available on Amazon, Barnes Noble et al.. And it only costs $0.99! Links to buy can be found HERE. And that, guys and gals, is the only shameless plug I will include in this little piece of Mental Flatulence.
Most importantly? I’m thankful that I still get to wake up every morning (although it does take me a bit longer to roll out of bed these days than it used to) and embrace my life less extraordinary. Forty four plus years on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence. Damn. A couple hundred years ago I would have been considered a senior citizen. That term bespeaks age. Wisdom. Whereas the term “Middle Aged” sounds depressing as f*ck. “Life, man. Life.” But I digress.
In “life, man, life,” one must temper the good with the bad/the light with the dark and not allow oneself to despair. And this year has been filled with moments that made me want to crawl up, fetal, into a little corner and just give up. I’m not thankful for those moments, but I’ve allowed myself them ’cause as people always tell me, you’re human and you should have them. No one is invincible. Even Superman has a weakness. These moments? They usually happen in private. I’ve become… somewhat guarded and it takes a lot to get me to open up about anything. But despite an overwhelming urge to give up at points, I never did. I never will. And that’s something else I’m thankful for this year: The capacity to forge, ever onward despite the universe seemingly screaming at me to tap out. I don’t know if it’s folly or not, folken, but it’s who I am. I guess it’s who I’ve always been. And I won’t belabor your eyes or minds with that at this time because I’ve already gone there in the past within the electronic pages of this blog. It makes me no greater a human being than any of you reading this and anyone else on this side of the proverbial wormhole of existence that isn’t. Just… me. El Autoro. The Madchronicler. Frank f*cking Marsh.
Frank f*cking Marsh has learned a lot this year. Is it possible to mature, even at the ripe old/young (depending on your perspective) age of 44? Apparently it is because I have. There’s zero point in denying that. There came a point, sometime in my early 30s when I became a dad for the first time and I thought, “that’s it! I’m done!” And for a while, I was. But “life, man, life” has a funny way of inserting it’s long, pointy and highly annoying gnome-like nose in your business and guess what? It did. And guess what else? I’m thankful that it did. I’m grateful for the opportunity to change and evolve, even now because once upon a time, I grew complacent. And I got burned. Never again, y’all. Add that on as an addendum to my earlier, Thanksgiving pledge and “lock it in” for the forthcoming days, weeks, months and years. And if you’re reading this and know me as more than just an occasional read (mi familia y hermanos y hermanas; you know who you are), do me a favor? Remind me of it if I ever falter in my resolve. Booyakasha, folken. Respect.
They say that the first year post… anything is the toughest. I’m not going to generalize and say that it’s just the first year post-a marriage or a relationship because there’s so. Much. More. Maybe it’s the first year post-a job you’ve been working in for decades. Maybe it’s the first year post-retirement. The first year post-losing your companion, human or animal (’cause in the end, that’s what we all are, is it not? Animals). Your first year post-Cancer or your first year, God forbid with it. I could go on and on and on even further, but I’m pretty confident that you get the point. Change is never easy. And not everyone adapts to it well. Me? I guess I’ve grown relatively used to it at this juncture but it’s still not simple. I’ll be the first denizen of this, or any reality to tell you that, as I mentioned earlier, I’ve had my moments of despair not just over the course of the last year, but over the course of my life, as well. Someone recently proposed that I may suffer from a spot of depression. I don’t know if I do or I don’t. I think I just grow attached to things. I “fall” easily. And do you know what? I’m thankful for that, as well.
So that begs the question: Is there anything I’m not grateful for? Survey says? I guess not. My life is what I’ve made it, for good and bad/light and dark. Your life is what you’ve made it, as well. So? You can either accept responsibility for it, or not. I won’t judge you either way. “When you think about it, we’re all different people, all through our lives and that’s okay. That’s good. You’ve got to keep moving, so long as you remember all the people that you used to be.” And I, like the good Doctor (Who?) Will never forget that. Not one iota. We never stop evolving, friends, family and oft times casual readers. And that?
You guessed it. That’s something I’m thankful for, as well. Most importantly though? I’m thankful for you. Yes, you. All you folken that have been reading my various ruminations for decades. If you keep coming back for more I vow to you that I’ll keep writing. Always.
And with that? I’ll send you on your ways to enjoy your respective holidays. A very Happy Thanksgiving to everyone on this, or any side of the proverbial wormhole of existence from your ol’ pal El Autoro, alias the Madchronicler…
Alias Frank f*cking Marsh. Winky emoticon. Smiley face. See you next year.