
As I sit here on the day before Thanksgiving, with a newly applied 24-hour heart monitor placed on my chest this morning, I am extremely thankful for my life. At 86, I’m still moving and enjoying my days. And so, I give you a mere 100 things I’m thankful for.
- Simply surviving the past year, after a major heart attack in 2024, tops the list.
- Next are all the family members and friends who have supported and loved me this past year.
- I’m also thankful for my writing comrades, the Eastside Tucson Writers here in town, and the members of Story Circle Network whose daily online presence inspires me to keep writing.
- I’m thankful for my canine companion Scamp, who is never far from my side and whose antics often provide laughter, and whose presence makes me happy. Taking care of him also fulfills a need I have to be useful.
- I’m thankful for heating and air conditioning that keep me comfortable despite the weather outside. I think back to the years I lived on the Texas Gulf Coast without air conditioning and wonder how I survived. I think back over the years a lot. The changes amaze me – and sometimes confuse me as well.
- And that brings me to the next thing I am thankful for: the ability and willingness to change with the times. As writer and philosopher Alan Watts once said. “The only way to make sense out of change is to plunge into it, move with it, and join the dance.”
- I’m thankful for the spark of joy and happiness deep within me that has nothing to do with what’s going on in my life. It’s something I have come to realize I was born with and that not all people have. It’s what keeps me looking for that silver lining when all is chaos around me.
- I’m thankful that I’m a writer, and for the good life it has given me.
- I’m thankful for the view of the Catalina Mountains that greet me outside my patio door most mornings, even before I get out of bed.
- I’m thankful for neighbors who pop in for a visit, or who stop to smile and chat a few minutes when they see me out walking Scamp, or in the case of my next-door neighbor Hiroko, who walks Scamp most evenings, a holdover from my heart attack last year when others had to give him his daily walks for a while.
- I’m thankful for Dusty, a rescue mutt and Scamp’s best friend, who I have babysat for 12 years now. I’m also thankful for Dusty’s mom, Jean, who makes sure I’m still breathing each morning when she drops her dog off before going on to work. Scamp sometimes lets me sleep in until almost 8 a.m. My granddaughter Shanna and my oldest son, D.C. also check in with me daily. I’m blessed with love, for which I am very thankful.
- As I am for my memories, especially since it’s the good times and not the bad times that most often find their way to the surface. Like most of us, I’ve had my share of both.
- I’m thankful for rainbows. And for:
- My doctors and modern medicine.
- A hot bath.
- A comfortable bed.
- Good chocolate.
- Books and their authors.
- The New York Times, my morning newspaper these days. I read it online.
- And thinking of that, I’m thankful for my computer, which connects me to the world.
- The television series Survivor, Amazing Race, Challenge and British mysteries, my all-time favorite shows.
- A rainy day and a good book.
- Birds.
- My Roomba.
- My new recliner, which is big enough for me to share with my dog.
- A road trip this past September with my best friend Kim.
- National parks and bird and animal sanctuaries.
- My small patio yard, which the birds love.
- Competitive card and board games.
- Funky earrings.
- Comfortable shoes;
- Warm fuzzy socks on a cold day.
- Tye-Dye T-shirts.
- Plants, especially my rubber tree plant which is over 30 years old.
- Jigsaw puzzles.
- My rollator, which lets me walk at my former fast pace.
- The oldest thing I own, which is a drawing of a cardinal owned by my grandmother, who was my favorite person until she died when I was 11.
- My piddling with watercolors.
- America.
- Being a woman.
- My leaf blower, because raking hurts my back.
- Smiles from a stranger, and anybody else, too.
- Deep belly laughs.
- My car, and that I can still drive.
- My morning two cups of coffee with cream.
- Strong women.
- Our family football pool, which helps keep scattered loved ones connected.
- A visit this past year by my youngest daughter, T.C., who I hadn’t seen in quite a while, as well as a visit from my oldest daughter, Deborah and her husband Neal.
- Bookstores, especially Back of Beyond in Moab, Utah, which I got to visit during my road trip with Kim.
- Snail-mail letters.
- Maps.
- Photo memories that drop into my email daily.
- Flowers.
- Hot dogs, with chili, onions and cheese.
- My binoculars, so I can look at birds close up.
- Good, honest and truthful journalism – and yes, it’s still out there.
- Libraries.
- Dad jokes, because my oldest son tells them.
- Bird and other field guides.
- My Dick Tracy watch, at least that’s what I call it because I can get and make phone calls on it. It’s my medical alert plan.
- That after trial and error, I can finally make pumpkin soup that tastes as good as what I had on my African safari.
- Boxes full of surprises that my daughter-in-law sends me
- A blank page waiting to be filled with my words and thoughts.
- Reading glasses.
- The time I now have alone to reflect and connect the dots of my life.
- That if I die tomorrow, I’m ready – but not eager.
- Grandkids and great grandkids.
- Kind and caring people.
- Learning something new, hopefully for every day for the rest of my life.
- Olay moisturizing body wash, a new find this past year.
- Ice in my Jack and Coke.
- A clean refrigerator, which mine seldom is.
- Microwave for cooking leftovers.
- Sun, moon and stars.
- The drive up to the top of Mount Lemmon on the Scenic Island Skyway with a grandson and his family.
- Shortbread cookies.
- Email, despite the junk.
- My pill organizer. Never thought I would say that, but then I’ve never been 86 before.
- Home delivery.
- Bright colors.
- Trees, like aspens whose coin-like leaves turn golden in fall, or oaks trees whose twisting branches turn into art.
- Smucker’s sweet orange marmalade on my morning – or midnight – toast.
- My curiosity.
- Monday mornings. I like the feel of a fresh start, and Mondays remind me of this.
- Living alone but never being lonely.
- A good pen.
- Hugs.
- The image in my mind of the peaceful place where I dumped my mother’s ashes.
- My monthly Social Security check.
- Yellow and gold sunrises and purple and orange sunsets.
- Helen Reddy singing “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar.” – and when I am brave enough to sing this song at a karaoke gathering despite the fact I am tone deaf. A couple of Jack and Cokes beforehand helps.
- A good haircut.
- Clean water to drink, and friendly reminders to drink more of it.
- Scamp’s wonderful groomer, who not only comes to my place, but tells me Scamp is a “good, sweet boy,” despite the fact he got expelled from PetSmart. Have I mentioned that he is a Siberian husky/shih tzu rescue mutt.
- Stimulating conversations, especially where differing people can share their views and nobody gets upset or ugly – and might even learn something.
- Glass containers with lids that can go from the refrigerator to the icebox, or even the oven.
- For the saguaro cacti that can be seen all around Tucson.
- For 50 years of journals.
- That I’ve lived long enough to have wrinkles. I’m proud of every one.
100 And finally for all the readers of my blogs. This, by the way, is the 1,648th one I’ve posted over the years.
Pat Bean is a retired award-winning journalist who lives in Tucson with her canine companion Scamp. She is an avid reader whose mind is always asking questions (many of which are unanswerable), an enthusiastic birder, staff writer for Story Circle Network’s Journal, author of Travels with Maggie available on Amazon (Free on Kindle Unlimited), and is always searching for life’s silver lining.






I love list; and your poppy painting – it’s so bright and exuberant! Happy Thanksgiving! 🙂