By Doug Bolton

I've always thought of myself as being grateful.

As I was just beginning to learn how to do cursive handwriting, I remember vividly laboring over "thank you" notes. Later, as a Boy Scout, living out the scout oath and promise, there were plenty of opportunities to be thankful. As a reporter, sources got many thanks for helping me win scoops. As I took on leadership roles, saying "thanks" was a great way to motivate people.

Part of the reason - if not the whole reason - for attending church services every week for my entire life was to give thanks to God for the many blessings I've received. When there may have been a time in my life when it was a struggle to get out of bed, all I had to think about was the guilt of not being willing to give up one hour of my time each week to say thanks to God.

But something about my relationship with God has changed in the last 12 months - probably even in the last 12 weeks - that has put me at a greater peace with the challenge of being grateful.

When asked, "How are you doing?" I no longer reply "fine" or "good." My answer is usually a much more impassioned one, and by the time I finish, I am talking about "how truly blessed" I am.

So what's changed? Perhaps it's easiest to rule out what hasn't changed.

I am still married to an incredible woman.

For her, I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Sure, we've had our moments, and we will likely have more. What married couple hasn't? But all I have to do is think about life without her, and the gratitude I have for her draws me immediately closer to the Lord. She's not defined as my wife, but rather as a faith-filled, devoted mom and superbly talented junior high teacher. A brain tumor and other health challenges keep getting in her way of feeling as fulfilled as I am. My increased thankfulness may be intended to make up for her personal and professional frustrations.

Though my wife and I were not blessed with an abundance of children, our daughter has brought me more joy in her 18 years of life than I could possibly have imagined. But again, nothing's changed here, either. I'm being totally honest when I say I never saw the "terrible teens." One early speeding ticket cured her lead foot - inherited from her mother.

For her, I am grateful - though still very prayerful that she will find as much satisfaction from her next chapter in life as her mom and I did.

My extended family - parents, in-laws, brother, sisters-in-law, brothers-in-law, aunts, uncles and cousins - are close enough for me to see as often as I would like. I live in a neighborhood and in a region where many people have become great friends. Though not nearly as well as I'd like, I stay in touch with friends from relationships created years ago and miles away. I think I have the best job in Greater Cincinnati.

For all of this and much more, I am grateful. But again, my gratitude over these many blessings is not an entirely new emotion.

Could the answer be age, experience and time? After all, it was our 73-year-old bishop's desire to leave a legacy upon his upcoming retirement that launched our archdiocese into challenging ourselves to think about our roles as a community of grateful believers. I will turn 44 this year. What I am thinking most about is the likelihood of having 40 more years of life, and what that journey will entail. I've been a newspaper publisher since 1997 and have been publisher of the Business Courier since 2000. I am more grateful every day for the team we've assembled at the Courier and for the opportunities ahead.

A corollary to age could be health. I am blessed to be in good health, having taken an even more proactive-control of my diet, exercise and doctor visits. I'm grateful for the old adage which drives me: I feel good, I look good, I am good. And I'll add this line to be sure to give credit where credit is due: God knows it and is responsible.

What could be the real shock treatment that put me in a position of smiling more and frowning less was the cathartic value of this year's Lent. (In doing research for this article, I've learned that the notion that it takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown is simply untrue!) I've always taken the opportunity for Easter reconciliation, but this year's dive into the season was made more effective by a parish mission. Several themes emerged: our talk, thoughts and feelings are what we're going to reap; all of our adversities in life can have an eternal value for us; God is God, and I am not; in order for us to continue developing our faith, hope and charity, our pride and arrogance must experience a lifelong death process; we need to become more detached from this world and embrace a simplicity of life; the needs of our fellow community members must become as important to us as our own needs and those of our family.

Here's to 40 more years of gratitude.

(Bolton is publisher of the Cincinnati Business Courier and a former member of the archdiocesan communications commission.)