The fourth wave of COVID-19 seems to be coming at us like a huge tidal wave bringing a lot of debris in its wake.
This debris seems to be jammed full of negative emotions that set up giant barriers against any kind of unity between us, the white-collar, blue-collar joe public people.
The big one, of course, other than the ridiculously high numbers of COVID cases that have flooded our own dear province of Alberta, home to the wild rose, and great hockey teams is the huge dividing line between the vaccinated and the unvaccinated people.
And, ironically, right in the middle of this battle that seems to play out on Facebook, over texts and tweets and even in grocery stores and over backyard fences, up pops the one holiday that is all about the one thing that it is easy to forget about right now.
Well, I have to say that is a good thing.
At this point in the pandemic, gratefulness gets buried under the debris of anger and fear. It is true. It is much easier to stand on the picket line of distrust and judgement and hurl hate filled words at those on the other side.
As for me, I have decided to go with the grateful thing and not only because it happens to be Thanksgiving, but just because.
I like being grateful. It reminds me of how lucky I am and to quit feeling sorry for myself for the multitude of hardballs life throws my way every now and then.
And even as I struggle, once again, to write a column that people may or may not take the time to read, I know that I am most grateful for the opportunity.
And I am most grateful that one loyal reader actually took the time to write me a brief note saying it was refreshing and uplifting to read something positive. He also sent me a couple of CDs filled with songs from back in the day when we were both young and it seemed like the music would never, ever end.
Actually, I guess it has not, really. Music is still alive and well, but, oh, I do love those old songs. They truly were the best.
Weird! I remember my dad saying that, too. And I remember thinking, “silly old man, what does he know?”
Anyway, getting back to being grateful. I have to say I am most grateful for a friend who sent me a text saying ‘I made too many cabbage rolls for us. Come and get some for your supper.”
And then there was the other friend who stood on my doorstep with two huge bags of potatoes and carrots, straight from her own garden to my front door.
There was no middleman and no price to pay, except, of course, a cup of tea and an afternoon chat in my kitchen while the sun played tic tac toe with the lengthening shadows of the night.
And it was good.
Thanksgiving certainly is a time to be grateful.
But, in all the in-between days, even the days when the tidal wave of the pandemic leaves us worried and scared, there is always something still and quiet and nice that is good.
For me, today, I am grateful I am not colour blind like two of my grandsons and my brothers were before them.
The colours outside are amazing, just like eye candy!
Treena Mielke is a Central Alberta writer. She lives in Sylvan Lake with her family.