...GET THE FUCK OUT. Buh-bye. See ya. Don't let the door hitcha where the good Lord splitcha. Deuces. Make tracks. 'The fuck OUT. Seriously.
Tonight I toast William, Aimee, my right arm which will never be the same, and all the other losses we have suffered this year. These last 365 days, I should note, have been speckled with some beautiful things - the birth of several good friends' children, hundreds of good times with our kids, a marriage that grew stronger through adversity despite our weakest moments, and the opportunity to learn new things about myself. But speckled as it was with good things, it was seemingly covered, doused, drowned with a veritable flooding of moments that sucked the wind out of me, and left me feeling sad and hurt and hopeless. I do not question my blessings, nor do I discount them, but reveling in them has been difficult with the burdens I have spent the year bearing.
I hope for fewer moments like that in 2009. I hope for more joy, more gratitude, more reasons to cry tears of joy, more smiles, more laughs, and more blessings for all of us. Not perfection, I am not selfish - but more moments of happiness than tragedy will suit me just fine.
Baby New Year, 2009, come on in. Welcome. Please bring the joy and hope we seek. Please.
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2 comments:
May your ratio of joy to shit be vastly different this year, my sweet friend. Happy '09.
2009 will be better. It just has to be!
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