With January 2017 upon us I find myself reflecting over the past year, the ‘draft’ list of my new years’ resolutions tucked in the back of my mind, and the anticipation of the upcoming year. This is the common theme at this time of year. So, it seems the right topic of choice for the Estevan’s Writer’s club’s 2017 January’s blog.
In 2016 I lost a lot of people in my life; some close, and some not. Whether I was close to them or not, is not my focus, as each one, on some level was apart of my life and contributed to it, even if in a small way. With that I count each one as a blessing and I am truly thankful for the lessons they have taught me in my life. With their deaths, it has also made me aware of my own mortality and the mortality of the people around me. Which makes me take stock in the importance of the people close to me and who I hold dear in my life.
Unfortunately, the 2016 theme of loss in my life will be following me into the new year. Someone who I love and who is very dear to me is not long for this world. Given only months to live, we spent the holiday season together. The entire time I was with him, I couldn’t help but envision an hour glass stuck to a table with the soft white fine sand slowly but surely running out. During my visit, I found myself at a loss for words. What does one say to a loved one who is faced with their own mortality? What does one say, when everything that can be said has already been said? Simply? Nothing. As a writer, it’s seem ironic that I should write this; but maybe there are no words. What words can ease this person’s pain and impending journey? What words can comfort him? I desperately searched for these words that could help him, or at least, for a brief moment bring him some comfort but nothing came to me. So, I gave up. Instead of words, I decided to just to ‘be in the moment’, cherish each sand molecule that was passing through that small hour glass, helplessly unstoppable. Maybe in the silence of that moment I just needed to be thankful that I have had the opportunity to know him, share a piece of my life with him. I choose, instead, to hold his hand and squeeze gently, and accept this lesson he taught me.
From my own past experience, I found my new years’ resolutions fade as quickly as the months pass by, with life’s demands generally overshadowing any personal “To Do” list for the up coming year. Because of my recent losses of loved ones in 2016 and the impending loss of another looming overhead, I have decided that my new year’s resolutions this year will have no words. Thanks, to this man who I hold dear to my heart. No weight loss goal, no material list of items that I want, no breaking of bad habits, my list will be all action. I will “do”. I will say less and do more. Which means I will make positive choices that will possibly enhance my life and I will try to have a positive impact on the people in my life who I love and care about. I am going to give myself an attitude adjustment every morning counting my blessings and the positive things in my life where in the past I found that difficult to do. When given a choice, I am going to choose happiness. When given a choice, I am going to do more for others, and less for myself. I am going to embrace the positive people in my life and let go of the people that drag me down. But most of all I will choose to just be the best person I can be, day by day acknowledging the fact that I too, have an hour glass stuck to a table. This is the lesson this dear man taught me over the holiday season.
As long as each day ends in 2017 with the knowledge that I did the best I could not only for myself but for the people I love and care for is the best resolution I can make. Because at the end of the day sometimes all that is needed is a soft touch and a gentle squeeze of a hand from a loved one in a shared quiet moment.
On a closing note I would just like to take this opportunity to wish a very Happy New Year to everyone out there and, of course, to my new friends in the Estevan Writer’s Club!