One of our kids got me a small laptop to write these moats on. The computer I have been using is getting slower, and is sometimes recruited for watching movies or doing homework, and he wanted to be sure I have the tools I need. It is not an Apple, and does not do lots of fancy things. But I do not need fancy. Just a keyboard to tap on in the morning hours. 

He called to ask if it is working well for me, and I was happy to say I had just closed it for the day. It works beautifully. I thanked him.

Or at least I think I thanked him. 

Thanking is a small gesture. It fits easily in a conversation, or a hug. Sometimes I busy myself with the fruitless exercise of remembering instances where John and others owe me thanks. But that is like looking backwards from a train going through a tunnel. The real view is up ahead, with light growing wider every second.

I decided to write thank you notes, and the more I pondered, the more I found to be grateful for. I thanked John and each of my kids for two dozen things, from last week, and from years ago. Memories of when my daughter covered for me at preschool, or John surprised me with an oak desk started flowing like a pump that had been properly primed. 

Time is better spent tossing gratitude as if I will never run out, which is entirely possible.