Being Thankful by Diane Burton

This time of year, you’ll see many posts on being thankful. I hope you’ll indulge me with one more. I am so blessed with my family. Hubs and I were married on Thanksgiving Day. He says that’s how he’ll never forget our anniversary. 😊 After forty-six years, we’ve had many events—big and small—to be thankful for. We’ve had good times and difficult ones. Our relationship grew stronger during the difficult times. We don’t always see eye-to-eye on issues. Most of the time, we cancel each other’s vote. We enjoy different TV shows and movies. I love reading fiction. He doesn’t. However, he will read my books. His usual response: not bad or pretty good. Glowing praise from him. Together, we raised two children. Because of the demands of his job, he missed much of the children’s early years. He’s making up for that with our youngest grandchildren.

I’m so proud of our children. Despite the “normal” teenage conflicts, when I despaired that we’d ever have a good relationship, they’ve become loving, responsible adults with families of their own. I admire their parenting skills. Most of all, I’m thankful they found loving spouses who support them in so many ways.

There’s a saying “If I knew grandchildren were so much fun, I would’ve had them first.” I can say, with all certainty, that’s true. During a stressful time, we visited our daughter’s family in Indianapolis when our first grandchild was a baby. Rocking a sleeping baby brought so much peace and relaxation. My stress went away as I cuddled her. With each grandchild (five now), I’ve felt the same. Time disappeared. I had nowhere else to be. No chores to do. Just holding and rocking a baby was enough. I wish I’d known that when my babies were that small. I’m so thankful for the second chance.

While I’m thankful for living in a land of freedom, I fear for our future. In our efforts to protect our country, will our liberties be lost? Will Emma Lazarus’ poem on the Statue of Liberty (“…give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me…”) be a lie? I’m thankful my ancestors found refuge here.

As I give thanks, I must add the fabulous authors I’ve found here on this blog. We went from strangers to friends as we shared our lives, our sadness and triumphs. I’m grateful for the support they’ve given me, the attagirls and the commiserations. While the deadlines for twice monthly posts always seem to catch me unawares, I wouldn’t have missed this experience. These ladies made me stretch my creativity with the annual holiday stories. Prior to my first time, I hadn’t written a short story since high school (back in the Dark Ages). Talk about fear and trepidation! That was in 2013. Now, I look forward to writing a short story that begins with the same first line as the others. More than that, I look forward to reading the others’ stories. Despite the same prompt, we all have such different stories. I hope you enjoy them, too. My story will be up on December 8 – 10.

With this being my last post, I want to say how thankful I am for all of our readers. Enjoy the holidays.

Emma Lazarus & Immigration Ban by Diane Burton

Last week’s news about the ban on Muslims hit Facebook like a firestorm. But this is nothing new. Too many times in our nation’s past, there have been shameful incidents, for example interring Japanese Americans during World War II. 

Unless your family is Native American, we are all the sons and daughters of immigrants, or maybe immigrants ourselves. Our ancestors were not all welcomed with open arms. “Irish need not apply” once graced Help Wanted signs. Foreigners were given derogatory epithets. Still are.

I do believe in strongly, thoroughly checking out those who want to come to America. We have laws in place to do that. Those charged with that responsibility should do their duty. But a ban on people because of their religion or ethnic origin isn’t morally right. Isn’t it against our Constitution?

Just because reviling of newcomers is part of our past doesn’t mean it should be our present and future. Aren’t we better than this? Is Emma Lazarus’ poem on the Statue of Liberty a lie?

"Give me your tired, your poor,

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

I am so grateful that my father-in-law, my sister-in-law, my great-grandparents, and the rest of my ancestors came to the U.S. and were allowed in.

Because I blog on the 30th of the month, I'll see you again in March.