We all complain.

About the long waits at airport security. About the cashier who examines every item before scanning it. About slow drivers, yappy dogs and the rising cost of everything that comes in liquid form.

Complaining is a part of our tax-paying, daily-commuting lives.

Sure, nobody likes a chronic complainer, but I've always believed in the benefits of griping, that purging the anger is better than letting it fester inside.

But maybe we should be a tad more judicious about the subject of our complaints.

I mean, what's the benefit in re-living that morning's two-hour commute to work? And does it really help to gripe about rising gas prices you can't control?

One of my closest friends suffered a stroke about a week after she gave birth to twin boys — and just before her 31st birthday.

Since late August, she hasn't been able to talk, swallow or walk. She's using hand signals to communicate, and she's eating — if you can call it that — through a feeding tube.

Worst of all, she's separated from her newborn sons.

I'd say she has a lot to complain about.

And yet — despite a month in intensive care, partial paralysis, double vision, a tracheostomy to help her breathe and the inability to eat real food — she hasn't complained about her situation. Not once.

Sure, she gets frustrated sometimes, not being able to do the simple things — hop out of bed, talk on her phone, munch on french fries — that we tend to take for granted.

But she doesn't dwell on the negative, focusing only on what she needs to do to get better — and get home to her adorably cute newborns.

Just witnessing her fortitude has been humbling.

I mean, how can I complain about dropped cell phone calls or crowded surf breaks when I'm physically able to do those things?

Really puts life — and my griping — into perspective.

Yes, everything is relative. What matters to me may not matter to anyone else. And my feelings — about back pain, traffic, the return of leggings — are still valid.

But my friend reminds me that for every annoyance, for every obstacle, for every curve ball, there are twice as many reasons to be thankful, to get over it and move on.

My mom used to always say we should be thankful we have two legs, two arms and two eyes. I would roll both of those eyes and say, "Yeah, but so do most people."

Not true — and not the point.

It's about being grateful for what you have, not what you don't have. And about really appreciating the people — like my friend — who know the difference.

Reach Catherine E. Toth at ctoth@honoluluadvertiser.com. Read her daily blog at blogs.honoluluadvertiser.com.