i suppose now is as good as time as ever to write that stereotypical new years post, which i will do mostly for myself for a sense of reflection and to capture this year somehow.
i’ve been thinking as the year ended where i begun it and i’ve come to the conclusion that it’s strange how fast time goes and how much one year, despite being full of changes, can be dominated by one event (one series of events? i am not sure). what do i mean? hold on, let me back track.
this year began in Guatemala–how crazy is that? we stayed up until midnight and watched thousands of fireworks go off over the lake and right over our heads and laughed and took photos and then went to bed, hoping those around us would too and they didn’t which led to a long night. the rest of that trip was eye-opening, including zip-lining and an illegal trek into the Mayan ruins at night and getting ill and not wanting to return to the cold. i went to Bass Lake then, funnily enough. I thought i had said goodbye to that home of mine, but Mom and I went up there to help Grandma and Grandpa pack up and I stood in the freezing cold garage for hours, attempting to sort a life into a transportable size. Do you know how impossible that is? I will not go again into my theory on revolving door goodbyes but instead simply say something that I realized last night when I was at my grandparent’s for New Years: that has become their home. I never thought that I could think of anywhere but Bass Lake as their home but as I turned on the bathroom light last night, their house on Holiday felt right. How can that be? Does time really ease all wounds? Bass Lake is my heart. I can’t believe it’s been a year.
I went back to school then, to Cottey, to Kansas Suite and chaos. I had the Mother/Daughter tea. Sam moved in, Myisha moved out. We planned and hosted the bachelor/ette auction to raise money for girls to go to school in Guatemala. I went back to traditions too, of course. We had the Valentine’s Day tradition and other events as well, like going to Joplin and the fights over travel and over who deserves to know what about who but what I remember next is March and Spring Break and Hazel coming here. We went to see Emily, her and Emmaray and I. We went to Mexican food in Mt. Vernon. I became scared even more so of leaving Cottey. Hazel, Mom and I went to the Hiediel House where I chose Salem, and Hazel and I watched Beauty and the Beast for too many hours. I went to Savannah, GA to the SKD Conference to present a paper in April and saw Nana and Papa and Auntie Rue and realized how much power my words have and made the choice to forgive and move on. We had Founder’s then, in April, and secrets whispered, tears cried. There was the trip to Chloe’s and drama over PTK and a lot of effort into Emanon, Sonic runs, Beka and I being Beka and I, in ways both good and bad, Senior Skip Day, Reverse Step Sing, the Amish Auction with Penny, laughter, struggles, papers, joy, and then all too fast, all to sudden: graduation, capping. With a little piece of blue hair, there I was on the steps my mom was on years ago, with Hazel, Emily and her by my side. Three women so much like me, I feel complete when they are by my sides but that happening? All three of them? It’s rare.
Then summer. This is what I was talking about–how one series of events can shape everything because when I look back on this year I think camp, camp, camp and nothing more. How can I overlook Cottey and Salem? I suppose when you really think about it it makes sense. I won’t go into details. The pain and joy are still too real…
Salem. Adjustment. Charleston, twice. Thanksgiving in Rome, Texas, home, and finally a New Year so stereotypical I couldn’t have asked for anything better.
I skipped moments–of course. How could I not? So what is the point? The point, my dear, is this: it is hard to move on, to accept the lessons learn and let the past stay in the past. But I am excited for what’s to come, always always excited. This life is good and for that, I am forever grateful to however I got here.