It’s that time of year when we begin to give thanks for what we have, even when it might not be much if anything. It is the start of holidays and celebrations and the endless end-of-the-year reviews when we measure where we are, set goals for the next year, and hope we will do better next time. Oh, if it was so easy.

I am thankful for being here and able to write this for you. I am the luckiest person in the world is now my favorite slogan because I count myself damn fortunate and thankful for how far I’ve come. How many fires I’ve walked through, how many hells that I’ve thrown myself down into and how many near-death experiences I’ve experienced and damn if I’m not still alive and breathing and thinking and exhausting my seventy-five years of lives with another one due soon for redemption. The year is not over, but it’s still an excellent time to be thankful for how far the life train has taken me this year.

There’s a little gadget embedded under my skin just above my heart outfitted with a nuclear (just kidding) battery with wires extending from it whose only task is to regulate my heart rate and rhythm by sending electrical impulses to it. Yeah, the miracles of science. It seems my heart rate kept falling below forty beats per minute, which I found out is nowhere where it should be (above sixty is an excellent place to start). After all the drama of 911 and an ambulance and emergency room, I’m told that I can look forward to a regular (whatever the hell that means) life with my heart…as long as the battery lasts, which is expected to be good for another 11 ½ years. Then, they replace it. Tell me that science isn’t great. I’m thankful.

In May, I graduated Summa Cum Laude from California State University, Long Beach, with a B.A. in English-Creative Writing at the age of seventy-five after an eight-year college journey. I learned not only fantastic lessons in Literature, Science, Mathematics (my only B in the entire eight years), Philosophy, and Human Development, but I also learned most about critical thinking and how not just to accept everything that is served up to me in school, media, political campaigns, advertisements, or social media. Think, analyze, let life experience pause your instinct for sudden rushes to judgment, and realize that lies are everywhere, but so is truth. You have to be patient to discover it. I’m thankful.

Arlington, Texas; San Francisco, California; and Seattle, Washington. I traveled to all three this year to visit my son and granddaughter (she’ll be eight in December. Time flies), celebrate Sumi’s and my thirty-seven-wedding anniversary, and then was flown up by my sister’s company to surprise her for one of her retirement celebrations. I loved all three adventures because of who we saw and what we did and because traveling with Sumi is always an adventure of discovery while enjoying each other’s company. I’m thankful.

For three weeks, from October 24-November 10, I overdosed on 14 of 19 Latino plays, three films, and devising a ten-minute play at the national play festival organized by the Latino Theater Company in downtown Los Angeles called Encuentro 2024. I’ve recently written about its impact and the lessons learned, but I will repeat this: I’m more than convinced I must write more. Whether it’s plays, essays, poems, or short stories, words are the visions that radiate from deep inside my brain and assemble into worlds on my computer screen. I’ve always known that, but it’s become more apparent through school and this year. I’m happy at that revelation, and I’m thankful.

All this brings us to Thanksgiving Day. I am fully aware of the holiday’s manufactured beginning and the traditions that ignore what happened. However, in between Turkey and the sweet potato pie, it is good to take a moment and consider where you are in your life at that moment instead of gorging yourself on food that, in many cases, will go to waste instead of to humans who may need it more than you. Consider how thankful you should be (if you’re that lucky) about all the people you love and love you, the best you are because you chose to be the best you can be, and most importantly, that you still have another opportunity to improve yourself. Trust me, not everyone gets another chance. I’ve been lucky to get more than one chance, which is why I am the most fortunate person alive. Well, at least I like to think of myself that way. I’m thankful.

With all of these beautiful and inspiring moments this year, I know that there are none for many in this country and around the world. Life seems dark, even dangerous. I’ve seen the fear and anger on social media. I have spoken to folks who talk about leaving this country, about getting a gun, about creating a fortress mentality against imagined and probably real threats that lie ahead. I get it. After 2016, that was my first reaction. This time, I refuse to submit to that fear and anger. That’s not power. That’s surrender.

I am thankful that I live in a nation, in a state where I have at my disposal the tools of resistance, the tools to seek the truth, the power of my words, the power of words from family and friends that give me hope, that reinforces the truth that we’ve been in dark times before and they too passed into the dustbins of history. I am thankful that I am still alive, able to write powerfully, with courage, and surrounded by others who feel the same. Courage. Let it wash over you, and be thankful for what it will give you and the future it will help you build.

“We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear.”
– Martin Luther King, Jr.

“I learned that courage was not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not he who does not feel afraid, but he who conquers that fear.”
– Nelson Mandela