By Lorry Myers
New Year’s Eve promises a new beginning, the night when you’re supposed to reflect one last time, on the year you just lived. Remember the good, let go of the bad and make resolutions that you never keep.
I gave up on resolutions a long time ago.
The past twelve months came together to make a year that I’ll carry forever. Big stuff, little stuff, and all the stuff in between combined to make the last twelve months worth living.
Where did all the time go?
I measured the days of this year by the sudden death of my beloved sister-in-life, Donna; another lesson in living small and loving big. I watched friends grieve family, and family grieve friends and I felt the sorrow with each and every one.
Time never takes that away.
Last year, I quit something I started and started something else in its place. I made new friends, treasure the old friends, and let others who I thought were friends go. I visited memorable places; places that made me cry, places that gave me peace, places I will never see again. I took new roads and the roads less traveled but always seemed to come back to the ones that I know best.
The roads that take me home.
This past year I’ve been to birthday parties and overdue reunions and fundraisers for good causes. I’ve given speeches and sat at conference tables and connected with women who are widows just like me. In twelve months, I’ve been to more funerals, more celebrations, and cried more tears than I want to count.
Many of those were happy tears.
This year, I bought a new vacuum, a new ceiling fan, and several pair of shoes that seemed comfortable at first. My yard lost old trees that changed the view from my windows and weeds sprung up where none were before. My golf cart broke down, I ran over a nail, and I didn’t know you had to change the furnace filter.
For the complete article see this week’s edition of the Centralia Fireside Guard