An Ordinary Year in Review
Photo by JESHOOTS.COM on Unsplash
Featured in the Dayton Daily News
There’s something to be said about putting the current year to bed as we rev up for 2019. Each December, we’re inundated with reflections about the most notable of the year. Utmost influential people, strongest athletes, best dressed, and worst tragedies dominate media coverage. The list of superlatives goes on and on; greatest, strongest, biggest, and most memorable. I get the tendency to mark bigness, but I can’t help but think about the regular moments which connect our every days. This time each year, I’ve a hard time pitching my pocket calendar with all the happenings I’ve noted or scheduled as if somehow my dentist appointment from last July needs to remain public record. After all, in my purse tucked beneath crumpled grocery receipts and multiple pairs of reading glasses lies the worn, pencil-scribbled record of my year. In review, I see the notes for good book suggestions, recommended Netflix series, phone numbers for plumber referrals, and scrawled easy dinner recipes. Turning the final page of the year makes me wonder if I’ll forget the details born between the best, worst and greatest events of 2018. What about the lunch I had with a grieving friend in March? What about those meetings I attended in September to foster community awareness for causes I believe in? And what about the blocks of time I rearranged in order to spend precious time with those I love? How can I forget these small but poignant moments?
A New Year. Thinking about letting go and moving on is sometimes hard. The limbo bred between reflection and anticipation yields a bit of trepidation, not to mention the thought of expanding waistlines and search for more effective skin moisturizers. Maybe it’s an over 50 thing, but the passage of time is a loaded issue. Anticipating the new year means opening a new book. Literally. A new pocket calendar awaits. The binder is stiff and the pages blank, indicative of the unknown. Maybe I wish to hang on to what I knew for sure in 2018; life’s simple and comforting details that left a collective imprint in my memory.
It's times like this I hear the voice of my mother-in-law. Her lessons regarding the embrace of life are priceless. "Time to move on," plays repeat in my head. Born from 89 years of living, her coping rests in the ability to look forward; believing brighter days are just around the bend despite loss and misfortune. "Oh well," she says when joy is far too fleeting. "We just have to get through this," is her offering when heartbreak visits. Usually I buy into that, but waiting for the crystal ball to drop in New York City's Times Square at the stroke of the new year leaves nostalgia tethered to my left ankle like a cement block, especially when I'm reminded of he randomness of my delightful doodles. In a perfect world, my pencil will mark only happy moments of 2019, but we all know it seldom works out that way. I guess I need to keep my ears open to the voices of those like my mother-in-law. My fears of letting go need to be replaced with what I know for sure. Moving into 2019, I will still be in relationship with my grieving friend. Maybe the ensuing months will offer her more glimpses of delight. I’ll become more vested in the community of those who share the vision of activism. Perhaps we can touch even more with compassion and information. I will continue to seek time with those I love. And about those unexpected events that will define greatest or worst? There will be plenty of time to reflect on them next year at this time. For now, I guess I need to sharpen my pencil. That way, 2019 is bound to be a great year filled with the best of ordinary time.