I needn’t go far from home to find gratitude. I’m just across the street from my home.
Sitting in a strange living room listening for a sleeping child.
Sending thoughts and prayers to the young mother who needed to take her mother to the hospital.
Sending compassion to the grandmother who took a handful of pills and is waiting to be admitted.
Thinking of my blessed life. Being happy that I (hopefully) have coping mechanisms and chemical balance enough to block this path of tragedy in my own family.
Hoping that I am capable of listening without judgment, assisting without condescension and holding this family in prayers and thoughts to absorb the anger and agony that will follow this day and may have led up to it.
This is a tiny slice of time for me. I may walk through the shadow of it with these neighbors or never speak or hear of it again.
Either way, I’m grateful.