An anniversary, of sorts

Today is my one thousandth recorded day of gratitude. I have countless journals, each page chronicling a day. I have missed a few days over the last thousand - I can remember three nights when my luggage was lost on a return flight from Florida, and another number of nights I can count on one hand for one reason or another. Oddly enough, my hardest days do have entries even if they are slim. Some days I barely have room enough on the page, writing up the side, squeezing in the words. Other days I am forcing myself to find three things, just three. Those are much, much more rare than the days where I can no longer find room on the page. I can hardly imagine my night time ritual without it now. And it has happened one day at a time. This milestone is marked in a journal which was a gift from my oldest friend in the world, written with a pen which was another gift from my newest friend in the world. So very, very much to be grateful for.