By the time this column is read, if indeed it is, another Christmas Day will have passed. Children will be playing with or breaking new toys. Thumbs of slightly older youngsters, of all ages, will be flying over keys of new smart phones. The strange spelling of their texts appearing on screens of their friends' phones faster than Santa disappearing over the rooftops.
The countdown will have begun to the beginning of
another year. I think we all hope that 2015 will bring better things, though
few may expect that hope to manifest.
Television networks used to broadcast retrospectives
of important events of the year just past on New Year's Eve. Whether they still
do or not I won't know since I cut the cord of cable and satellite TV
reception. Surprisingly, after having lived almost my whole (long) life with
television as a constant, I have missed it very little.
So I'll do my own retrospective. In many ways this
has been a sad year for me. The deaths of friends sounded a refrain of my own
mortality. Death of a friend's husband reminded me that the coming January will
mark four years since I lost my own husband of over fifty years. And just
before Thanksgiving the loss of my youngest brother's wife at a much too young
age was a blow.
A close family.
A member of my immediate family went through the
trauma endemic to these times, divorce. The disruption has been hard on my
adored great grandsons, even with all working to create a smooth transition. I
trust that the power of unconditional love will heal any damage to their
precious spirits. This is the gift we yearn to find during the Christmas
season. Would that we all found much of that healing to take as our 'shield and
buckler' in the New Year.
But the year brought good things to me also. A successful year as leader of a writing group. The continued presence of many long-time great friends. A long-sought book contract with a traditional publisher. These are the things I hope to build on and make 2015 a good year. May it be so for all who might read this.