Thanksgiving—supposedly a time for giving thanks—is really just an excuse for most people to gather with their family, watch football, eat more than is accepted by society on any other day, and then go shopping at outrageous times for outrageous deals. Very few families sit at the dinner table together and go around telling each other exactly what they're grateful for—be it the food, family, winning teams in sports, or their mother-in-law having missed her flight. But whether or not we say it out loud doesn't define our gratitude towards any given thing. Whether or not I write an essay about what I'm thankful for, I'm still thankful for my family, my cats, books, laughter, fuzzy blankets, and the Legend of Zelda. Really, I'm just expressing that gratitude and appreciation in a written—and supposedly formal—essay.
My family made me who I am. If my mom and dad hadn't met and had three children, I wouldn't have been born (unless you're one of the people that think we have souls, then I probably would've been born, minus the name, appearance and history. So in that case, Elizabeth L. Fedirko wouldn't have been born). Likewise, if my grandmas and grandpas hadn't met and had three children—two if you're just trying to get my parents, but really, they wouldn't have been the same if they didn't have a younger sibling to look after—then my parents wouldn't have met and I wouldn't have been born. This cycle goes on forever, so I'm thankful for each and every one of my family members, even if I don't know their names. Aside from the biological reasoning, I do love my family. I'm thankful that I was born unto this family, and that they have yet to kick me out of their homes. Sure, I rarely see them even though most of us live under the same roof, but I think that makes me more appreciative when I do get to be with them.
Likewise, I love my cats. They're always around, just waiting to be pet and loved and played with. Yes, sometimes Jorge will knock down everything on my nightstand, and Simmy will try to trip me because I walked past without stopping to pet her, and Maggie Jo is afraid of the air around her, and Zippy headbutts us whenever we have a hot drink; but as my mom says, we love them because they're like this. Except Jorge, but he's too adorable to be mad at, so we still love him. Cats are special creatures. Even though they're domesticated, they'd still be able to live in the wild with no problem. For them to bring you a kill means that they want to feed you for once (it's not a warning). Too bad we don't usually eat mouse or squirrel, but it's the thought that counts. I could rage on and on about my cats, but it would be a bit hectic, so I shall digress.
You'll always hear people say that laughter is the best medicine. You'd think they'd stop when you have broken ribs or a sore throat, but they keep saying it. Probably because it's still true. Even if it hurts, there's got to be a good reason to be laughing, so they at least cancel each other out. Besides, your ribs or throat are going to hurt even if you sit completely immobile. You might as well try to enjoy some of the time. And even if you're just really tired, laughing for fifteen minutes can compensate for two hours of sleep. Personally, I have a sincere relationship with laughter. Whether or not someone was trying to be funny, or just failed epically, there's usually something I can find funny in it. And for that, I'm thankful.
What's better than sitting on the couch, reading a book, with the cool air blowing lightly into the room and a blanket protecting you? How about sitting on the couch, reading a book, with the cool air blowing lightly into the room and a fuzzy blanket protecting you? So much better. Fuzzy blankets—and whoever decided they'd be a good idea—deserve a special place in heaven. Aside from perfectly countering any cool breeze to create an atmosphere of pleasure, fuzzy blankets caress your skin as gently as a butterfly. That is euphoria. Euphoria is pleasant, and definitely something to be thankful for.
In 1987, a game called The Legend of Zelda was created by Nintendo. Over the next twenty-five years, fifteen games had been created in the world of Hyrule, the most recent being The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, played on the Wii. In all honesty, I'm thankful for The Legend of Zelda. Not only is it good fun that teases the brain, it's also a heart-pounding, action-filled game that brings the whole family together, be it by making us call for one another's help, laughing at one another's fails, or simply trying to give advice (which usually ends up being ignored). I've been procrastinating all week with The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, and for that, I'm thankful.
Aside from Zelda, I—of course—had other means of procrastination. One of them in the form of books. "Books" is another word for "Alternate universes that are very hard to navigate, thus forth leaving you lost in their depths". If I had a choice between books and sleep, I'd choose books until I was too tired to truly appreciate them; that's how much I love them. To get lost in their depths means the time passing here doesn't matter; nor do the problems faced. Books give you a lifetime to forget about your problems—even if you remember them while reading, they're such distant things that you can usually look at them neutrally. Life definitely wouldn't be the same without books.
For one, I would've been a lot less disappointed when my eleventh birthday passed by. For another, a lot more stories would still be told orally. Books preserve the original substance of the story. Therefore, I am thankful.
Although Thanksgiving is simply used as an excuse to gather and break what society normally deems okay, it's still nice to remember all that you're thankful for and give them a little more attention than you might normally. To my family and cats, I'll make sure to take more time out of my day to show my appreciation. To books, fuzzy blankets, and The Legend of Zelda, I'll make sure to keep my appreciation at the forefront of my mind. For laughter, I'll take the time from my day to find something humorous and laugh about it. I suppose Thanksgiving is still quite alright.