Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, or as my Cuban relatives would say, it’s San Gibin, which sounds like the patron saint of spare change.
Speaking of Cubans and giving thanks: When I visited Cuba with my father in 2004, we drove several hours from Cienfuegos to Camaguey to visit my aunt Z and her family. We had lunch at her house, and after we ate, I found myself alone in the kitchen with my cousin’s wife R, helping her clear the dishes.
My cousin O, in his late twenties at the time, suffered from kidney failure, and he and R would get up at dawn multiple times a week and hitchhike to the dialysis clinic several towns away (despite what you might read elsewhere, the healthcare system in Cuba is miserable). While O underwent dialysis, R would stand outside the clinic and sell pasteles or whatever else she managed to cook the night before with whatever meager ingredients she could find. Then they would hitchhike back home, the sun setting on their backs, exhausted.
We cleared the plates in silence, but I could tell she wanted to say something to me, and then she did, turning around to face me: “I hope you thank God every day that you were born where you are.”
Time stopped for a moment and we just looked at each other, long enough for me to see the sadness in her eyes, or maybe it was hurt or disappointment, and long enough for her to see the truth in mine. She walked away before I could say anything, and what could I say anyway? We didn’t speak again that day, or ever again.
A few short years later, my cousin O died — at the dialysis clinic, sitting on a hard plastic chair during treatment.
Ever since that experience with R in the kitchen, I thank God every day I was born in the United States.
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I went to the doctor last week for my annual physical. As I get older, and as a cancer survivor, I no longer take these visits for granted. All of my bloodwork came back normal, so I’m very grateful for my health. When you’re healthy and feeling good, everything is possible.
I am thankful to have a roof over my head, food to eat, and clothes to wear.
I am thankful for my wife and kids, for my mom and sister, and for the rest of my family. They fill me with much love and support. An extra thank you to my son Matthew, the only one who won’t be at the dinner table tomorrow. For the second year in a row, he will be having Thanksgiving dinner with fellow Army officers and soldiers at Fort Leonard Wood. So, thank you my son, and to all the men and women who serve our country, for your service and sacrifices.
I am thankful for my friends, who are always there when you need them.
I am thankful to everyone who supported our Logistics Leaders for T1D Cure team this year. We have raised $52,889 so far for Breakthrough T1D, the leading non-profit organization dedicated to research and advocacy for type 1 diabetes. In the 14 years since our daughter Hannah was diagnosed with T1D at age 11, tremendous progress has been made toward finding a cure and improving the lives of those living with this chronic disease. None of this progress would have been possible without the generous support of many people.
I am thankful for my clients. Next month will mark 15 years since I went off on my own and launched Adelante. According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, 50% of small businesses fail in the first five years and 65% within 10 years. It’s not easy being an entrepreneur. It takes a lot of hard work and sacrifices to succeed. But success is also built on trust and relationships, especially in the early years. I am grateful for the trust my clients placed in me fifteen years ago, and for the relationships we continue to develop and grow.
And I am thankful for all of you — for taking the time to read, listen, and care about what I say and do.
Happy Thanksgiving.
