With the “Trump Reality Show” waging a war against women, a global climate crisis that puts a hurricane to shame, and political temperaments growlingly more like those of toddlers, 2019 was not so kind; but in the valleys of time, I see a hill on the horizon, and I will call this hill 2020, a year destined to bring me closer to those moments I find myself most thankful in.
2019 began beautifully with virgin strawberry daiquiris in glass bottles, the over-hyped ball drop, hugs from my family, and a sweet promise to myself, a promise which instills a certain hope in me.
So, yes, I’m glad 2019 is gone, but at least I’m carrying the following, which I am ever so thankful for, into 2020 with me:
● An unwavering love from my boyfriend, a love which he holds steadfast through sobbing, a college workload, and uncontrollable laughing and a love which I hold in my front pocket, so I can always feel it near me
● My father of 63 (yes, I mean father and not grandfather) who opens his heart to me like a front door of a warm house even though I, at one point, entered and abruptly left.
● Pecan pie, because picky-eating me decided not to try it until Thanksgiving, a regret which still haunts me with 19 years of missed flavor-tunity (like opportunity but with flavor)
● Star-filled nights in Ireland where the land became a portal to a place where time ceases to flow and newly-made friends who accepted me in my grumpiest states and continue to accept me now
● Chocolate ice cream which, many times, maintained my sanity
● My boyfriend’s family who fill the holes in my broken family, and hug me as though I belong in their lives forever, a timeframe I wouldn’t complain about.
● My niece, Abigail, and Jess’s bouncing baby boy (I accept the cliche because the alliteration it creates is more important) who fuss when I hold them but still smile back at me as if I possess some secret knowledge about the beauty in life
I want to also list 2020, because I’m grateful I survived Trump’s presidency (I had some doubts originally) and survived at all, but I cannot carry 2020 into 2020, so instead I will just thank the new year here in its own paragraph. The promise of the new year is like an unopened present, like Jess’s new baby whose life has yet to really start- full of possibilities.