At the start of the year, I made some resolutions. I can say once again that I have made it through another year without eating a phone book. I did get in slightly better shape, having quit smoking (for the most part; the holidays were hard) and I lost a few pounds, but that was mostly due to my inability to eat at times and had far less to do with me actually getting to the gym. I did reach my writing resolution, however. I have certainly written more, and I have gotten some of that writing out into the world. This year was mostly hard, given my health and things like losing our automobile, but I have perservered through my writing. I have kept this blog for nearly a year. I have had my poems and a short story published. I have finished the outline for my novel. I have started assembling a small book of poetry. It has been, for my words, a good year.
Yet, I don’t have much to say tonight. I am grateful to not be spending the new year in the hospital, as I have in the past. I am happy to sit on my sofa with my husband and do tequila shots and watch Netflix and laugh about how this year has kicked our butts, and next year probably will, too. Or maybe not. Maybe we can keep on reaching for the hope a new year brings us.
At least, I’ll keep trying.