Facebook offered me a year in review, but it didn’t encompass what this past year really gave me.
Winter weather, with its relentless snowstorms, found me housebound. No way out, even if I wanted to go out. Valentine’s Day weekend found me at a wedding one day, and a funeral the next. Unfortunately, immediately following the funeral I fractured my fibula, in an icy fall.
I sat on my ass for the next three months, with outings only for doctor’s appointments and a lot of time for depression and reflection, in equal measure. I wish I could say that reflection won out, but I don’t think it did. I talked to myself way too much, watched On Demand, and read a book a day. I learned to be lazy. And I learned that’s not a bad thing.
Weddings were the big thing. 2014 found me attending five weddings. What a blessing it was to witness young people pledge their love and vow to stay together always. One special wedding was originally scheduled as a commitment ceremony, but when New Jersey’s ban against same sex marriage changed, it became a true wedding. So many happy tears were shed at that wedding that we almost drowned in love. Congrats to the Dullavins, the Weisses, the Bodes, and the Sklavonouses. Yes, I said five weddings. The Dullavins were married twice this year.
I’m looking forward to baby showers in the next couple of years. And speaking of babies, holy cow, I have been blessed with new babies this year. Welcome to the world Vanessa, Madelyn, Shawn, Auset, and Hudson.
Turmoil at the workplace had me considering retirement with a nice “Fuck you” letter. Unfortunately, there is no one to step into my shoes, as my previous sick time proved, so I stay where I am and continue to prevent children from spending too much time in juvenile detention centers.
June granted me the privilege to become a member of my state’s Disciplinary Review Board. What does that mean? It means that I am able to keep unethical attorneys from victimizing their clients. And that’s pretty much all I can say. #TopSecretShit
August offered me a new home, which meant planning, packing, and purging. Whoa.
September found me moving, with real movers this time. Way different from my last move eleven years ago. Furniture, clothing, books, clothing, and all. With limited vacation time, thanks to a shitty winter, I had little time to get my new place set up before I had to return to work. Never doubt the power of a woman on a mission. Within a month my new apartment became a home. A home that I absolutely love.
By November I was hosting my parents for Thanksgiving, and I was witness to the daily struggle my mother goes through with my father. You see, my pops is living with dementia. A man who once oversaw a multi-million dollar budget for the United Methodist Church, as the head of church development, can no longer remember his nieces and nephews. He cannot remember how he broke out his granddaughter’s college graduating class by ethnicity, just so he could predict the future of nursing in the tri-state area. In 2013, he started the coffee and brought a cup to me. In 2014, he didn’t know how to start the coffee pot. He finds comfort in familiar food, familiar places, and familiar people. When I am no longer a familiar person I think I will cry.
On Christmas Day, we had our traditional toast. A coquito and alcapurria toast. A toast to everything, and everyone, that came before us, and everything still ahead of us. A missing member sykped in for the blessing and we moved on to the meal. Next year brings us three boys headed for college and another cousin ready for AARP. Those of us who were “the kids” are now “the elders” and it’s been a heavy mantle to bear.
Now it is the eve of a new year. A promise of new things. New beginnings. An older me, if God so blesses me. Perhaps I will decide to do something else, and retire. Perhaps I will take my doctor’s advice, and live longer. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps…
One thing is certain, I will love, I will be loved…is there anything more important.