I have been thinking about gratitude again. Not because everything feels easy. It doesn’t. And I don’t think it asks us to pretend life is easy when it isn’t.
Life keeps reminding me how quickly things change. People age. Friends drift. Families scatter. Work evolves. The future rarely arrives neatly, or in the package I was expecting.
Gratitude is not pretending everything is fine. At its best, it is a practice of paying attention to what remains meaningful, what we might otherwise miss, and what we may need to let go.
Maggie and I started a gratitude practice a while back. At the end of the workday, we spend about ten minutes sharing what we are grateful for. We go back and forth, not rushing, not trying to fix anything, just giving each other’s gratitude a little room.
It sounds simple. It is simple. But simple does not mean shallow.
This year has had its own challenges. Not the same as five years ago, when the world still felt full of pandemic uncertainty, but challenging in its own way. There are still questions about the economy, the markets, small businesses, families, aging parents, friendships, and the pace of change.
So why gratitude now?
Because the alternative is to move through all of this half-awake. To miss the good parts. To rush past the hard parts without learning from them.
And I don’t want to do that.
My mom passed away five years ago, and I remain deeply grateful for the time I had with her during her last year.
There were many trips to Virginia and back. Each trip gave me time with her. Time to cook for her. Time to care for her. Time to have lunch at her favorite spot so her friends could see she was still here. Time to sit with her while she faced something terrifying: the gradual loss of freedom, independence, and control.
Being with someone near the end of life changes you. But it’s also a gift.
We often turn away from aging because it is uncomfortable. It reminds us of what we cannot control. But I have come to believe that when someone we love is nearing the end of life, moving closer is not only a gift we give them. It is also a gift they give us.
A loved one’s passing is not only an ending. I believe it is also a beginning. As mysterious, humbling, and sacred in its own way as birth.
I am grateful I was there.
I have also been thinking about friendship.
Some friendships deepen. Some fade. Some people who once felt central move quietly to the edges of our lives. And then, sometimes, new people come into view at exactly the right time.
Gratitude does not require us to deny the pain and sadness. It allows us to say, “I am grateful for what that friendship was.” I am grateful for what it gave me. And I am grateful for the people who are here now.
Maybe some relationships are not meant to be held forever in the same form. Gratitude can help us honor them without pretending they are still what they once were.
I am having a funny thought as I write this. Marie Kondo asks you to express gratitude for an item that you no longer need. Things that no longer “spark joy.”
Why not people?
Professionally, this has also been a year of transition. And I know it has been a transition for many of you as well.
Building an independent firm has reminded me how little any of us can accomplish alone. Julie has been a godsend. That is not an exaggeration. Her steadiness, care, and follow-through have made this transition possible in ways I could not have managed on my own.
I also feel deep gratitude for the professional network around us. Attorneys, CPAs, insurance professionals, custodial partners, planning specialists, and colleagues who show up with care and competence, often after hours, often when the situation is complicated, and often when a client needs clarity quickly.
That kind of collaboration is easy to take for granted until you stop and realize how much trust it represents.
I don’t want to take it for granted.
There is more I could name. Much more.
But maybe that is the point. Once we slow down enough to notice, gratitude is rarely hard to find. It is in the people who stayed. The people who helped. The people we miss. The people we are still learning to love better. The work we get to do. The ordinary days we too often overlook.
Gratitude does not remove uncertainty. It does not make loss painless. It does not answer every question.
But it steadies us. And that is worth remembering.
Cheers!
