For 30 years, the fourth Thursday of November determined our farm’s success for the year. We were raising turkeys, and if we didn’t make it at Thanksgiving, we didn’t make it for the year. Most Thanksgivings, we had much for which to be thankful.

Giving thanks remains important to us in retirement. When we share joys at our church, we usually end our sharing with these five words: “For this I give thanks.” So, herewith some reasons to give thanks come Thursday.

An accident of history and land prices brought us to Maine. Or, to take a generational view, back to Maine. My mother’s forebears were Mainers, from Norway and Guilford. As it happened, and unknowingly, we settled just about midway between those two spots. My ancestors were early players in an old Maine drama. They went to Massachusetts to make a living. Not until my mother’s parents retired to Kennebunk in 1940 did anyone in the family come back to Maine. We followed 40 years later. For this I give thanks.

Farmers often work in isolation. But selling our turkey items at farmers markets put us into contact with lots of folks. There, we formed friendships with folks from here and away, from many pursuits (physicians to fishers, basketball fans to builders, teachers to techies, other farmers). When we see one another, we sometimes pick up the conversation where we had left it off when we got done. Or start a new conversation. Twice in the past month, at Brunswick and at Orono, I have run into people who remembered us from market and we talked about things other than turkeys. It is gratifying to be able to occupy more than a single dimension. For this I give thanks.

As the world seems to be devolving into ethnic clusters — Scots almost seceded from the United Kingdom, Catalans from Spain, Kurds from Iraq — the United States continues as one of the few countries that melds people of all sorts into an identity we call our own. American. Our very diversity gives us strength the rest of the world can’t even imagine. Or duplicate. For this I give thanks.

I see my doctor now more often in a year than I did in the 40 years before I turned 65. Were it not for Medicare, I could not afford these visits, and I might not be able to attend to any number of glitches that come with age. For this I give thanks.

It is almost eight years since a heart attack just about took me out. By happenstance, I took two aspirins as the heart attack started because I was feverish. The ER doctor said two aspirins was a larger dose he usually recommends. But it worked. For this I give thanks.

And Dr. Zanella’s sense of humor. For this I give thanks.

The U.S. has 1,845 four-year colleges. I attended six of them in a mottled career that in 10 years led to a BA. I attended very good colleges and not very good. Among the very good was Rockhurst College (now University), a Jesuit school in Kansas City, which let me in so I could improve a GPA damaged by earlier follies. Father Stanley Kalamaja, the dean of admissions, told me, “We save 50 spaces for heathens (read Protestants) like you who need to raise their grade-point averages.” I studied at Rockhurst for two semesters, then walked across the street to earn degrees. For this I give thanks.

Across the street was the University of Missouri — Kansas City. In two-years-and-a-half I went from second-semester freshman to graduate. I have kept contact with my three favorite and best professors, who live in Kansas City, New Jersey and Blue Hill. I had breakfast last week with the professor who lives in Blue Hill. They were great mentors and are good friends. It cuts the other way, too. As a professor, I formed friendships with students who stay in touch. I have attended weddings and funerals in the families of several former students. When events call for support, it is there. For this I give thanks.

College graduates today are told they will have from two to four careers during 45 or so years of working. I worked 68 years in the economy and, depending on how you define them, had half a dozen or so careers. I sold, then delivered newspapers for 11 years, the last few from a car, steering with my knees and flinging banded papers out a window. I was a reporter for three years, an editor for 15. I taught journalism for five years full-time and English for five years part-time. I farmed for 30 years. All that time, I was fortunate to be living in an economy that always offered opportunity. For this I give thanks.

Nursing homes scare me to death (pun intended). Old fahts surrounded by . . . other old fahts. I prefer to be surrounded by people of all ages. I don’t want to be shunted off to the over-the-hill ghetto, where the only friends we see are going out feet first. That is a good reason to keep up with basketball. Fans come in all ages, including old faht. But players come in only one age, far younger than me. This month, at the annual UMF alumni game, I could watch and chat with the former players, more than one holding a child on her hip, while reminiscing about the old days and asking about their next days. Watching players learn and perform smooths some of the edge off the sorrow of growing old. And offers hope that the future is in good hands. For this I give thanks.

It is common to say we are proud to American. I’m not. I’m proud of a great deal that my country has done both during my time and before. But the truth is I’m lucky to have been born an American. How many of the world’s 6,449 people born on my birthday did not benefit from the opportunities that lay before me? That is nothing that I did, nothing for which I should be proud. But I am extremely fortunate that my parents were in Wisconsin on May 1, 1940. For this I give thanks.

Finally, this was a difficult year to find anything for which to give thanks. Fifty-three years and 37 days ago, Marilyn Bower of Fairview, Okla., walked into my life. We were married for 51 years and 11 months, to the day. She died on June 3. I ache for the lost love but I joy in the 51 years with her. For her, above all, I give thanks.

Bob Neal believes that for whatever good fortune has come his way by accident or by hard work he should remember to be thankful on the fourth Thursday of November.

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