We should all follow the example of Ralph Waldo Emerson when he said, “I awoke this morning with devout Thanksgiving…” We are instructed to give thanks in everything. This is not an easy thing to do when things aren’t going so well in our lives.

I am thankful for everything I have and even for some things I don’t have. Even though that sounds like a controversial statement, it really isn’t. I am very thankful for my husband because he is one of the nicest people I know.

However, there was a time when I was in college (before I met my husband) that I was not feeling very thankful because God didn’t see fit to “give” me the guy I had a crush on. Many years later, when I saw his picture in the alumni magazine, I was very thankful he wasn’t mine. I think my exact words were, “Thank you, Lord.”

He was not the most considerate person in the world and even strayed to the side of self-centered. The biggest draw (I now realize) was that he looked like a blond headed Elvis Presley. In the alumni magazine, he no longer looked like Elvis nor did he have any of that blond hair left. Yes, there is always something for which to give thanks.

My husband and I again will be eating our Thanksgiving dinner at Ryan’s restaurant. Last year, one of our daughters felt “sorry” for us and said, “Mom, I will eat dinner with you and Dad.” I quickly explained to her that she wasn’t really invited to eat with us. (She only felt sorry for us because everyone was eating somewhere else, and she thought we were eating out only because we didn’t have anyone coming to eat with us.)

This year, she and her family are joining us, and we are all going to enjoy the holiday together with no mess and no work. Of course, there will be no leftovers either, but one must give up something. I will take a card with me and write the waitress a thank you note for working on the holiday so that we can eat out. She will also get a bigger than usual tip.

If I had to choose one thing (besides family, etc.) in my life for which to be thankful, I believe I would choose the gift of laughter.

On our way home from New Orleans last week, my husband and I were listening to the radio. One of the commentators told about a survey that had been done, and it was estimated that a person who lives to be 80 years old has spent at least one year of his life arguing with someone about something.

At first I thought he meant only married people, so I told my husband we had better get started or we would never argue a full year before we got to be 80. Then, I realized the speaker meant that a person spent a year arguing with anyone and that most of the time it was family members.

I am so thankful I have a family that doesn’t argue. We laugh about a lot of things, especially my husband and I. Things come up that could easily turn into an argument or a spat, but because one of us says something silly or funny, it usually turns into a “laughing matter.”

My sense of humor is so weird that it pops up at very unusual times, and sometimes it really gets me into trouble.

The best example of this is when my father passed away. I had told my brothers that I would pick out the casket (daddy had left instructions) so they wouldn’t have to make an extra trip to Delbarton from Huntington.

I proceeded to the funeral home to do so. I had several selections, but I couldn’t make up my mind. The person who was helping me said, “If it helps you choose, this one has a 50 year guarantee.”

My “humor devil” popped up, and before I could figuratively put my hand over my mouth, I blurted out, “Has anyone ever come back on this guarantee?” In my mind, I was thinking, “How would you ever know if the guarantee was any good?”

Since I had already put one foot in my mouth, I decided to go ahead and put the other one in there, too, so I added, “Are you telling me that, if I have my father exhumed in fifty years and the casket has ruined, you will give me a refund? Do I need the receipt?” I didn’t crack a smile. I don’t think the guy ever answered. He was too stunned.

This past week we were in Huntington eating at The Golden Corral. There were two ladies seated at the table next to ours, and they and I got into a conversation. It would take too long to explain how the conversation got around to this topic, but I laughed so hard that tears were running down my face.

To understand the topic, I must provide a little background here. First of all, my husband doesn’t like to drink pop with his meals unless he is eating something like a hot dog. Also, we don’t like iced tea unless it is very good. He is supposed to drink a lot of water, so he usually orders water with meals when we eat out.

Unfortunately, the water sometimes tastes like “city” water, and he doesn’t like that either so he puts some lemon in the water. Unlike me, however, he doesn’t like lemon water, so he adds a pack or two of sugar to keep it from being sour. It is far from being lemonade, but we tease him about making his own lemonade, and it has become a family joke. He doesn’t care. He thinks it is funny.

The ladies at the restaurant and I were talking about people stealing the honey jars and the jelly holders at Bob Evans’ restaurants. One lady said, “That isn’t the worst thing. I have a friend who is too stingy to pay for a coke, so she bums lemons from everyone at the table and makes her own lemonade.” About this time, my husband returned from the dessert bar and sat down. He caught the end of the statement. The lady kept repeating her outrage several times.

I was laughing so hard that tears were running down my cheeks, but I was also trying not to let the lady see because I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her. My husband grinned and raised his eyebrows at me. I whispered and said to him, “If you put lemon and sugar in that glass, I will thump you when I get you outside.”

After I calmed down, I glanced over to the other table and couldn’t believe my eyes. The two ladies had finished dinner ending with dessert. However, one of them had gone back and gotten a few things on a plate along with a big plate of roast beef.

The lady who bemoaned her friend’s stinginess was rolling the “dry” things up in a napkin and putting them in her purse. Then, she got the roast beef and put it in a sandwich bag (evidently she came prepared) and put that in her bag. I kicked my husband under the table and motioned for him to look over there. He did, and then he grinned and reached for the sugar.

We are still laughing about this event.

I sincerely believe that Mark Twain knew what he was talking about when he said, “The human race has only one really effective weapon, and that is laughter.”

Laughter keeps arguments away, it keeps one’s spirits up, it makes sunshine on a cloudy day, it makes us happy.