Turning the tides

I'm coming to the realization that I may be a pessimist. I almost remember being an optimist, before some grand teenage disillusionment. Now I can't see a rose but for it's thorns. Maybe this is some long standing defense mechanism, expecting the worst. I rather hate it. Ironically enough, I don't think it will end well.

Now watch, wait and see, as I turn the tides.

I'm grateful for chocolate milk. That shit is delicious.
I'm grateful for aloe plants, that are healing my lobster skin so well.
I'm grateful for the people at the state department, for giving me a job. And for Karen, Darlene, Lillian, Cyndy, Lori, Marcella, Steve, Mrs. Goldwin, Razelle and Stella- for everything they've done for me.
For 'Chuck' at the bike shop for selling me an awesome bike, and giving me a discount on my helmet for working for 'the man'.
For that girl I waited at the street crossing with, chatting about biking.
For Mom, raising three kids and still retaining her sense of self.
For Dad, holding a steady job for 40 odd years, and still encouraging us kids to be adventurous.
For Gavin, threatening to beat up, I believe, every boyfriend I have ever had.
For Jody, my amazing sister, who, on occasion, makes me feel deeply human.
For Brent and Ryan, for loving my sister so well.
For Keefe, who was at times a doggy glue that held our family together.
For Cat, Lobsty, Norm, Figgy, and the whole slew of animals I brought home to foist onto my mother. You were all somehow special to me.
For Emily, for coming out of no where, and being amazing. I never expected to have a best friend again.
For Laura, inspiring my love of science and reason.
For my Wise, Beautiful, and Fun aunts.
My adventursome uncles and cousins.
My old friends, and everything they taught me and let me teach them.
For Dinosaurs, and their mighty talons.
For Cynthia, who sublet us her sweet apartment, when we were so quietly desperate for a place to live.
For Tanuki, an honest, hardworking, heartwrenchingly adorable cat- who could have spawned a legion of kittens, ruling by fluff and mewls alone. Instead she sleeps on our laundry and cries outside the bathroom door when Dave tries to poop.
For the maple tree, for growing new leaves this spring.
For Dave. His good heart and patience. The intent look in his eyes when he puts aloe on my back.

To my chagrin, I think that some of my pessimism comes from statistics. That no one can be so thoroughly blessed with such good people. That loss must wait somewhere. And that it's immature of me to find them irreplaceable. But these are the jewels of my life. And like the maple tree, I want them to come back every spring, and grow big and healthy.