Thankful and Grateful

Today is Thanksgiving in the United States.

While we aren’t the only country that celebrates Thanksgiving, the holiday is widely celebrated in the United States as a time of gratitude and togetherness.

In our household, we have a nightly routine that has evolved over the years. It includes reflecting on something we are grateful for. Even if we are too tired to do the full routine, we never skip our “grateful for.”

That led me to wonder about Thanksgiving being a day about gratitude and the difference between being thankful and grateful. According to the vast library of truth that is the internet, gratitude encompasses both being thankful and being grateful, but even though the terms thankful and grateful are often used interchangeably, they have subtle differences in meaning and emotional nuance:

Thankful

Definition: Being aware of and expressing appreciation for something good that has happened or for a specific benefit received. Thankful is usually tied to a specific moment or event (short-term and outward-focused).
Focus: Often more situational and reactive; tied to specific actions, events, or gestures.
Example:
“I’m thankful for the gift you gave me.”
“She felt thankful for the sunny weather during her picnic.”

Grateful

Definition: A deeper sense of appreciation and acknowledgment, often tied to an enduring or broader sense of thankfulness. Grateful reflects a more profound, ongoing state of appreciation (long-term and inward-focused).
Focus: Goes beyond immediate circumstances and often reflects a heartfelt acknowledgment of a relationship, life situation, or intrinsic value.
Example:
“I’m grateful for having a supportive family.”
“He felt grateful for the lessons he learned from his challenges.”

With my newfound knowledge of the nuances of gratitude, I think about how it applies to the language I use in the context of my son’s epilepsy.

I am thankful that our son has access to medicine that helps reduce his seizures. I am thankful for the doctors and nurses who cared for him during his surgery. And I am thankful he has a friend who helped him catch up when our son returned to school.

I am grateful for the support of his friends and his school. I am grateful to live where he can access specialists and get the care he needs. I am grateful for the lessons I have learned from our son’s challenges.

I’m not sure it’s perfect, but in the end, regardless of the words we use, it’s the feeling that matters. Gratitude improves our overall well-being and strengthens relationships by fostering positive emotions, encouraging mutual appreciation, deepening connections, and helping us focus on the good in ourselves, others, and the world around us.

On a day intended to celebrate gratitude and togetherness, I think that’s what matters, whatever language we use.

Because this post mentions Thanksgiving, it’s also important to be mindful that its origins are tied to events that some Native Americans associate with colonization and the loss of land, culture, and lives. If you’d like to learn more, please read about the National Day of Morning, which is observed by many Native Americans on Thanksgiving and is a time to honor their ancestors and reflect on the historical and ongoing injustices faced by Indigenous peoples due to colonization.

Shaped By Our Suffering

When we lived in Colorado, I would see trees on the edge of cliffs as we drove through the mountains. The wind and weather at that elevation could be brutal. But these trees would grow thick roots to ground themselves into the earth, even as their trunk and branches were bent and battered and grew angled towards the sky to withstand the constant pressure from the wind.

I recently came across the phrase “shaped by our suffering,” which speaks to how difficult experiences can shape a person’s character, perspective, or life path. While painful and often unwanted, the idea is that suffering can lead to personal growth, resilience, and a deeper understanding of life.

For as long as my son can remember, he has had challenges. He has had seizures, memory, attention, and learning difficulties. He was isolated even before the pandemic and, even now, is often on the outside of many social situations. He had so many dreams taken away from him before he could try to achieve them.

Through it all, though, his challenges and struggles shaped him into a sweet, empathetic, resilient, and big-hearted person. Those are his roots, which ground him as a person and to this family and keep him from getting blown away by what he endures every day to be in the world.

His struggles have also shaped me, forcing me to reflect on myself, my life, and my choices and develop a greater self-awareness. The months in the hospital while the doctors, nurses, and support staff kept him alive and rebuilt what he had lost changed my view on life, gratitude, and presence. The strength and grace he shows daily in the face of his challenges guide how I think about and approach challenges in my day.

The hardship we endured as a family, which tried to tear us apart, formed deeper, stronger connections between my wife and me and in our family. Today, those roots continue to strengthen, ground us, and make us more resilient against whatever comes our way.

Like the trees I saw in Colorado, we are shaped by the winds of our struggles. The storms we face may bend and scar us, but they also deepen our roots, making us more resilient and grounded in the things that truly matter. My son’s suffering has shaped him into a remarkable person with an incredible capacity for empathy, strength, and love. It’s taught me to live with more gratitude, to be more present, and to face my challenges with the same strength as my son.

The hardships we endure don’t define us, but they shape us—and sometimes, they make us stronger than we ever imagined possible.

All the Feels

Well, that happened.

I hoped we were better. I hoped we could be compassionate and selfless enough to think beyond the issues that impact us individually and vote for the issues that affect our country. I hoped we could see past the tactics of anger and fear that have polarized us against each other. I hoped that the close-minded view that the country was meant only for people who looked, spoke, and prayed like us would bend to consider the segments of the population at risk of losing their rights and identity.

But the results spoke for all of us. Unlike the last election, there were no claims of a stolen election. There is no debate that the Electoral College doesn’t represent what the country believes like the popular vote does because, this year, they both overwhelmingly showed what our country has become.

The past week has been filled with armchair analysis and retroactive criticism about what went wrong for the Democratic Party. Each clip tries to encapsulate a soundbite to explain the rationally irrational human brain, often contradicting another clip that uses the opposite justification.

I’m not sure we will ever know the answer. It certainly won’t change what is about to happen. But I think people want change but don’t want to change. We don’t seek information that could change us because our minds and hearts are not open to change, and we bury ourselves deep into echo chambers that reaffirm our righteousness.

What I do know is that this week, I felt all the feels. As a husband, the father of a special needs child, the godfather of a teenage girl, a veteran, and a friend of beautiful humans from different countries with different beliefs and identities, I was shocked by the result, angry at who we have become, and afraid of what the world will look like for the people who I care about in the next few years and for my son when he grows up.

We may not recognize it because we’re so caught up in our feelings, but our kids have a lot of feelings about this, too. They see what is happening and hear our conversations even if they don’t understand the details. They’re trying to make sense of what is happening, too, and if we can’t do it, how can we expect them to do it?

What we can do is help them with their feelings. We can encourage them to say their feelings out loud and to ask for help when their feelings are confusing or too big. We can demonstrate this behavior by sharing our feelings with them in an age-appropriate way. We can be present, listen, and demonstrate sympathy and empathy for them and everyone who needs it now more than ever.

Last year, my wife published a children’s book called “And” about feelings and the permission to feel multiple, conflicting feelings all at once. We use AND a lot in our house, as do our friends and readers. I think it’s such an important message, especially in these challenging times, and especially for our children, that we’re offering a 50% discount on the book to share the message and help as many children and families as possible.

To claim the discount, visit our store and use the code “ALLTHEFEELS2024” for 50% off through November 2024 when you order directly from kettlepot press.

kerri monnerat and social emotional childrens book

Take care of yourself and your family. And let’s take care of each other.