I think as you get older, the turning of the calendar from an old year to a new one gets more significant, more poignant, somehow. It's a little less party and a lot more pondering. And then when you've lost someone dear to you, it takes on a different feeling altogether. I noticed a lot of people commenting on social media yesterday about the passage of time that takes us all farther down the road, and away from the time we had with those who are gone. It's easy to wake up day after day and get lost in the grind. New Year's Eve sort of wakes you up and forces you to acknowledge that time passes, kids grow up, people pass on, lives change, and I am getting older.
Last night, as my teenagers and a few of their friends ran out into the cold, with the noisemakers I had purchased a few days before, screaming and dancing around, I watched through the glass doors, with my robe pulled tightly around me. Greg was already asleep, like usual, we joked. It had been such a fun day. We had cleaned for about eight hours straight! The girls and I did makeovers together while the boys played. We ate Texas Toast French toast dripping with butter and syrup and drank from the sparkling cider bottles I picked up from Harmon's. I made my mom's homemade caramel, which is so dangerously delicious that I once ate the entire pan! Greg sat concentrating on a super hard puzzle while we all laughed and talked and had a good evening. Everybody went to bed way too late. I dozed off while reading my book in bed, but eventually the fireworks outside--that seemed to burst for over two hours straight!--woke me back up. I was just in time to stand by the glass doors and watch Emma, Julia, Miles and Austin, and a few of the girls' friends dance and scream outside to ring in the New Year. Then it was hugs and kisses good night.
I stayed in bed this morning. I was only half awake. My back was aching too much to keep sleeping. But I started thinking again about my dad. He wasn't here for a single day of 2018. That seems strange. And sad. I thought about my little family. I keep saying we are currently enjoying family perfection. My youngest is four, my oldest is seventeen. Every one of my little chicks is safely tucked under my wings. It's just us. Nobody has left the coop. Nobody new has invaded. Ha! Everyone is old enough to have fun, and still young enough to have fun. I am enjoying this so much. I can see the changes on the horizon, so I'm trying to keep my gaze away from that horizon.
My friend lost her dad on Christmas Day. It has been so heartbreaking for their family. I took Emma and went over for a visit on Sunday evening. We hugged and cried. My friend expressed what I've already learned--that once it happens to you, you suddenly feel so much more sympathy when it happens to someone else. When you hear that someone "older" died, you don't realize how sad it is. Her dad was 74. I felt the familiar frustration well up inside me, my dad was only 65!! But I could see how devastated she was, even when he was 74. I said something like, It's always heartbreaking, until maybe someone hits their late 90s, and then it's easier to handle. We both laughed a little at that. She said she felt robbed of 20 years, I thought in my head that I felt robbed of 30 years! We ended by talking about the way gratitude is the way to make it through. Gratitude for a lifetime with a fantastic dad. Gratitude for sweet memories. Gratitude for those who are still in our lives.
Once we got back home, Emma wanted to show me a sweet picture she had found on the computer. In 2010, my mom's mom died in her 90s...and I had to eat my words, because there on the screen was a picture of my heartbroken mom. Apparently if you lose your parent in their 90s, it is still devastating. But I couldn't look away from the way my dad was comforting her, and I very distinctly heard his voice saying, "I'm here for you. Don't cry." It's a beautiful picture.
Now, onto 2019. Another year. 365 fresh new blank pages in the story of our lives. I'm not sure if this holiday feels exciting or not. But it definitely feels like a day to take notice of. It feels like a day to recommit to those we love. To recommit to the things that matter most. And I don't have to think for very long to know what those things are! Happy New Year! It's going to be another good one!
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