2014. Much love. Some loss.
As I reflect on this year, a little bit of sadness is in me. I think I’ve always been sad about the passage of time. I was like that as a kid, and I haven’t changed much.
Maybe it’s because I know that once time is gone, you’ll never get it back. It’s that little bit in me that always wants to hang on.
So I’m a little sad to say good-bye to the year that knew Sophie. Good-bye to the year in which I got all buff for one summer. (Only to lose it when Z came into the picture.) Good-bye to the year that said good-bye to our grandpa. Good-bye to the year that solidified Leyla as a real, permanent part in our family. Good-bye to a year where I didn’t meet my business goals — and yet I’m still well on my way. Good-bye to a year that introduced me to the sweet little boy who I’ll love forever as my own.
And with the ticking of a clock lays a vast, unknown world before me. 365 days of potential. Potential for good. Potential for bad.
And a choice lays before me to just simply be grateful for it. Not dread it, or fear it, or worry about it. Just embrace it with joy and thanksgiving.
Choosing to be grateful for the mudane days, and all the little tasks that lay ahead. For the laundry, and the dinners to fix, and the dishes to clean. For the little ones I get to tuck in at night. For the piles of toys (because it means I have both living children, and the means to provide toys.) For my husband and my house and my business and my friends and my church and my God.
There is so much to be grateful for, even in advance.
So tonight, I’m choosing to set aside regrets or remorse. Laying aside any fear of what’s ahead. And instead embracing the emptiness sprawling out in days on end. These are days I will have the privilege of filling with the people I love as long as they are here. To achieve a purpose that’s bigger than me. To grow in relationship with God, my husband, and yes — even myself. To grow just as a human. To get to be stronger, maybe through weakness. To become more consistent, compassionate, more in control. To become more of who I know God has created me to be.
So here is a toast to us, friends. May your New Year bring you new joy. Maybe even renewed joy. May it bring a softness to your grief. And for those of you who are trying to conceive — may it bring a baby to your arms.
Cheers! And Happy New Year.