I’d say this year has felt like a marathon, but it was more akin to one of those 10k mud races with the insane obstacle courses. Seven trips, two jobs, 700 miles moved, 100+ karaoke songs, one restraining order, two broken hearts, and maybe, what, 10,000 drinks poured? And basically everybody died. I’m serious. George Michael died just after I started writing this. Then I went out for my birthday, came down with the plague, and while I lie in bed for four days, unwilling to do much more than press buttons on my remote, a woman I’ve admired, looked up to, and aspired to be my entire life passed away (That is another post altogether). Then grief took her mother.
Having a birthday at the end of the calendar year has always been interesting in that it’s always given me the gift of reflection on the year as a whole, never broken up by age. It gives my year a sense of closure beyond the date on the calendar. Given that 2017 will mark the beginning of my 38th year, a fresh move, and new job that I’m beginning on January 3rd, I’m hopeful that it will bring rejuvenation and growth. I’ve spent the last part of the year in the dirt, weeding out the garden and clearing out the underbrush so new growth can take root and hopefully soon see the sun.
This year was not an easy one, but eventually it may be looked on as a banner year in my history for having survived it on my own without any major catastrophes in spite of the asteroid field I was dodging most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. I can’t totally complain about a year that saw me living on the beach, visiting Key West and New York twice, watching one brother graduate college and another get married. I was hell bent on enjoying myself in spite of everything around me and that’s something I plan on carrying into 2017 along with some unforgettable moments. There is joy to be had, sometimes you just have to fight a little harder for it.
I’m hopeful for the coming year. I’ve cleared the path and am ready for it to bring good things without tripping over itself and spilling its basket on the ground. Cheers to a magnificent 2017 for all of us and (selfishly) a wonderful 38th year for me.