The Goodbye Year
“If you’re brave enough to say goodbye, life will reward you with a new hello.” -Paul Coelho
2023 is almost over; just over 24 hours to go. Thank the Lord. Good riddance to this year and all of the nastiness that it brought with it. It seems as though this was a tough one for a lot of us. Even though it feels like the entire year flew by, it also dragged on mercilessly. Looking back, I honestly can’t think of anything that really defines the past twelve months for me. It just seemed to be one daunting hurdle after another, and I could barely catch my breath as I raced from one to the next. I am ready for it to be done.
I blinked and missed Thanksgiving and Christmas. The holidays just weren’t holiday-ing the way I wanted them to. I put my decorations up early in hopes of getting into the spirit, but it just never happened for me. For the first time ever, I can’t wait to take them all down. I didn’t make a single holiday craft or dessert this December. I didn’t send out any holiday cards, and although we had our family photos taken, I haven’t sent them to anyone. I normally buy ornaments for each of my girls to remember the year, and I bypassed that altogether. I could barely muster the energy to put together teacher gifts, finally giving in and buying gift cards the night before winter break began. Instead of filling stockings for my employees to make them feel appreciated, I didn’t do a single thing. I am tired of giving and giving and giving and feeling like no one really cares. I will probably do the same thing next year.
I find myself plagued with anxiety as the calendar flips faster as I get older. Am I accomplishing enough? Am I accomplishing anything? I still haven’t written the book that I have dreamed about for decades. If I’m being honest, I have barely started it. There are scribbles of ideas in notebooks and apps on my phone, but I haven’t actually finished a complete thought for any of it. What if I die before I ever actually write it? I think that it could possibly be my greatest disappointment. When I leave the earth, I want to leave something behind, a footprint of some sort to prove that I existed for a moment. I am terribly afraid of being forgotten.
My last grandma died a few months ago, and it has just left this empty well inside of me. My family anticipated the loss of her, and I wonder if knowing made it easier. I felt so awful for my mom and the brave face that she put on. My cousin had passed just shortly before, and those weeks are all a big blur of sadness and disbelief. The finality of knowing that I will never see either of them again is hard to write about even now. My aunt sent one of my cousin’s Wolverines t-shirts to me, and my mom brought a set of my grandma’s Goldfinch wind chimes from Michigan for me to hang outside. I’m happy to have something from each of them that reminds me of what they loved so much.
2023 was a year of ending relationships that no longer served me. The older I get, the less tolerance I have for entertaining people who don’t make my life better. I spent my childhood and teenage years wishing to be popular, to be well-loved and admired. The opposite is true now. I recently ended a 15-year friendship with a person who constantly told me they loved me, yet behaved in a manner that was anything but. One day, I had finally reached the point where it was simply not fun anymore, and I said so. It was surprisingly freeing. My self-esteem suffers enough without begging people to be a part of my life. Being alone is easier than feeling as though I am not good enough.
I am ready for all sorts of new things. I’m not typically a girl who really starts out with a list of New Year’s resolutions on January 1st. I don’t want to be doomed from the start. At some point, though, I have to learn how to prioritize myself in a way that I have not done in years. My bookshelf is clogged with novels that I have been planning to read for ages, and yet the layer of dust currently coating them is shameful. The cushy new yoga mats that I bought in the spring barely have a dent in them. I haven’t painted in months despite it being my most favorite and relaxing hobby. How can I carve more minutes into my day? What do I let slide so that I can feel like more of a person? I’m so busy taking care of everyone else that I am losing myself.
Tomorrow night when the ball drops, I will try extra hard to look toward the new year with anticipation instead of trepidation. I will pour myself a glass of champagne (or three or four) and try to be excited about the new things that are in store for us in the coming months.
2024, please be kind to us all.
