It’s time for retrospectives and best-of lists and summations. Time for us to widen our field of vision beyond the coffee spoons with which we usually measure out our lives and take in the whole of the year.
This has been a year of many, many good things. At work, in my friendships, I feel like I’m hitting my stride, becoming more me every day. My family and friends are happy and healthy and looking forward, I think, with more eagerness than anxiety. And I am fiercely grateful for these things.
But it’s not all sunshine and clover I see looking back at this year.
I lost something this year. I lost it twice, actually. The exact contours of the relationship are unimportant, except in the way that they were–and he was–dear to me.
The first time I lost him brought out the bravery in me, I thought. I will be strong, I will stand up, I am needed. How foolish was I.
The second time was as inevitable as it was anything else. Indeed, I think I was the only one to whom it was surprising. I still have to sidle up to the last awful confrontation, to look at it only from the corner of my eye. Still hurts. Too much.
I think I’ve mostly made it though the stages of grief…twice. I’ve leaned on a few good friends particularly hard and they have been so good to me.
Most who know me don’t know anything about this–either the having or the loss. But to put it behind me fully, I feel like I need to make this reckoning:
I have loved and been loved so hard it left me breathless. And then it just left me.
There. I said it. And it’s going to be ok. I know this. And more importantly, I feel this.
I am brave. I am strong. I will stand up. I am needed.
To those of you who have made this year, and this silly writing exercise, so wonderful, I am so very, very grateful. I am looking ahead to 2011 with more eagerness than anxiety and I hope you are, too.
Much love to you and yours.