How do you measure a year?
The song would suggest you measure in sunsets. Perhaps daylights? Cups of coffee?
I would have to go with their ultimate conclusion of love. And there has been a lot of that in my life. Never more than there has been this past year. 2008 saw me falter. 2009 saw me climb. 2010 will be the year that I surfaced from under the drowning pool I was swirling around in for the past two years. It is the first year that I rose up and gasped for air. The first time I can recall my head being above the surface. It marked the birth of my second grandchild in January. My 10th Valentines Day with my husband in February. It saw the reuniting of myself with many old friends and my letting go of some who should have never had the privilege of even speaking my name. It marked my triumphant return to school on a career path that will both help me, heal me as well as allow me to share my special gifts with the world.
There were amazing trips: Israel. California. New York.
There was the foreclosure fiasco of 2009 that led to the final goodbye to our home in March, 2010. Our new home is far more beautiful, far more homey and has none of the haunting horrible memories that plagued our old home. Nothing was more terrifying than not knowing if today would be the day you pulled up to your house to find chains pulling the front doors closed. Though it was through no fault of our own, it was still a cringe-worthy way of living.
May of 2010 marked one full year of sobriety. An accomplishment that back in 2008 wasn’t even in the cards for me and in 2009 seemed like it would be an unattainable goal. I am still on that path.
August was my 44th birthday and sometime in September, I chose to forgive myself for a lot of things I had done wrong. I gave myself that as a gift. I am sincerely looking forward to my 45th birthday, as I have always considered that number to be the mark of “halfway through” my life. Only halfway there. I’m still a baby. I still have so much more to do.
October of 2010 saw me have to confront the very real prospect of not having full control over the things that happen in my childrens’ world. It was the first time I had to protect either of them from bullies and it was entirely too terrifying in light of all the suicide induced bullying incidents that it coincided with during that month.
November. Sweet November. November would bring my parents, Esther and Harold, back into town. It would be the month of the Turkey. It would be final exams, final projects, final papers. It would also be the last and final time my blog would ever be so uninspiring. My friend in love, Janice, would turn my plain Jane blog into a bucketful of beautiful, where a princess would be happy to flounce around in once more. Since she changed it, I have begun writing again. That is always a beautiful thing.
Then, finally…December. I hate the holidays. If you’ve read me for any length of time, you would know that. But somehow, this year was a little different. This year, there was hope in the air. Laughter in my home. And, to sound entirely too cheesy, perhaps a song in my heart. My grandson celebrated his first Christmas/Hannukah. My kids are happy. Healthy. My marriage is good. So, so so so so good. We went on our yearly anniversary cruise. 11 years together, 8 of them married…both taking place in December. It’s a special time for the hotband and I. A time of reflection. A time to bond. A time to kick back in the sand of some tropical island, look over at one another and realize…we made it.
Wow. We made it.
Through tears. Through pain. Through strife. Through uncertainty. All the while, never letting go of each other’s hands. Together…we survived it all, weathered the storms and sailed away on seas of contentment and joy. We made it, my love. We truly made it. And look at all we have to show for it.
Sitting perched on the precipice of a new year, I can’t help but reflect and can’t help but rejoice. More than anything, I can’t wait to see what else the future brings. So, yeah…it begs the question:
Five Hundred Twenty Five Thousand Six Hundred Minutes…how do you measure a year?
In love. Definitely, in love.