There was a time when my greatest nightmare — literally — was that someday I would have to have heart surgery.

Many nights I have awakened during a dream in which I was in the midst of having heart surgery or was being told that I would have to have one done.

This nightmare began for me a few months after my mother died quite unexpectedly of a heart attack at the much-too-young age of 53.

Then, nine years ago, the nightmare became a reality. After a routine physical and a cardiogram that showed something that didn’t look quite right, I was sent to have a heart cath.

It was during this procedure that the doctor turned around and said to his nurse, “Get this man upstairs to a room. He’s a heart attack waiting to happen.”

I looked around the room to see if maybe the “this man” to whom he was referring might be somebody else, but alas, I was the only person lying on a table in there.

I couldn’t believe it.

My nightmare was becoming real right before my eyes as I lay there underneath the bank of monitors that displayed in real time various angles of my heart.

Maybe the reason I didn’t go into shock right there on the spot or collapse from fear was because everything was happening so fast. The doctor explained what was going on, what was wrong and what needed to be done, after which I was sent to that room to which he had earlier made reference.

It wasn’t until later when I had gained some time to really think about it that the fear hit me. At nearly the same time I realized that I was about to face the thing I had dreaded the most, the heart surgeon and a couple of members of his staff walked into my room.

“I don’t mind telling you doc, I’m scared,” I told him after we had discussed the planned procedure.

He stood there with a serious yet confident look on his face.

“Well,” he said, “I’ll tell you what. You pray for us and we’re going to pray for you and I think we’ll get through this just fine.”

I can’t tell you how much better that made me feel.

The next evening when I awoke from the anesthesia, I can’t describe in words how thankful I was to still be here.

I know that I am here by the power and mercy of God and the gifts and talents he gave the surgeon and the medical personnel who were involved in that procedure that day.

I know too that my life is likewise a gift from the Father.

And I also know that every breath I take and every beat of my heart are also gifts and that I am not worthy of — any of them — but am thankful for all of them.

Since that day nine years ago I try to not take things for granted. Sometimes I don’t quite achieve that objective but when I find myself slipping in that regard, I make it a point to pause long enough to catch up on the “thank-you- Lords” that I have neglected to say.

I know it might sound corny, but now when I hear the birds singing outside my bedroom in the morning, I stop for a moment to listen. I actually DO STOP long enough to appreciate that sound. I do that because I know that it didn’t have to be this way. I know that but for God sparing my life I would never have been able to hear that sound again.

I have noticed that since that day nine years ago, the sky is bluer, the grass is greener, food tastes better and flowers smell sweeter.

I treasure the time I spend with my family and friends more than I ever did before.

I love those cold, rainy days when you don’t have to be anywhere and you can crank up the fireplace and spend some time reading.

The missus and I will still occasionally put a movie in the DVD player and cuddle on the couch to watch it. One of these days we’re going to actually see a whole movie before we both fall asleep.

These are some of the things for which I am thankful.

And there are many others.

I hope that when you gather with your family Thursday that you have some things for which you are thankful and that you pause for a moment to reflect on them.

May your lives be filled with the joys and wonders you dream about and the happiness that you deserve.

I wish for you God’s blessings.

Klonie Jordan (editor@gaffneyledger.com) is executive editor of The Gaffney Ledger.