it is 11:59 pm on December 31, 2015. It was so close to midnight as I got ready for bed that I decided I should stay awake and write. 

New Year’s Eve isn’t my favorite holiday. I don’t like to be out on the road because I think everyone has been drinking. I don’t want to get dressed up and stay out late anymore. No one wants to watch someone else’s kids on NYE. I don’t want a fancy dinner. But more importantly, it feels so bittersweet each year. To mark the passing of time. Goals and dreams for the year that were not brought to fruition are put to bed. It’s hard for me not to look back to what I was doing last year, five years ago, even ten and fifteen, and the nostalgia is bittersweet. I never would have seen the events of 2015 coming. I had talked to my grandmother, Doris, for possibly the last time. She would be unable to talk soon after, and would pass away in February. I certainly couldn’t have predicted that, on a routine Monday afternoon in late March, I would fall out of my own front door and shatter my ankle. The pain that followed…the process of hopping on one leg for frequent night time bathroom trips while pregnant…the inability to care for Jacob, to meet his needs…it was trying. The worst part was seeing what I was putting my loved ones through. It was hard. My mind focused on the events ahead and the upcoming birth of my second baby, and out of the blue my first “baby,” my fur-baby, gets sick, is diagnosed with an immune disorder, and we have to make the very tough decision to end his life. I cried through several pairs of contacts. Two weeks later I am getting induced, against my wishes but alongside medical advice and urging. There have been two indescribably beautiful moments on my life, and the afternoon of June 30,2015 held one of them. Mr. Jackson made his debut earthside at 4:15 pm. I was instantly smitten with his dimples and sweet face, and feeling euphoric and powerful and so very happy. The events to follow were a waterfall of joy, one upon the next. Jacob meeting his tiny brother for the first time, the joy and pride involved in showing him off to family and friends, each milestone and development in his short life–all of these were beautiful moments. 

Time moved so slowly in the first half of the year. Especially in the second quarter as I laid in bed, sometimes overwhelmed by pain, and watched the hours slide slowly by. Jacob grew up so much and in so many ways this year. He has bloomed. I am so proud of the person he is. 

The second half of the year was like boarding a rocket and hurtling into the future. My two boys keep me so busy that the days seem five minutes long. It’s exhausting and exhilarating. I can’t believe how quickly time is passing and Jackson is growing up. I want to grab time and pause it to bask in these beautiful moments, but I just can’t. I suppose the brevity of them is what makes them so beautiful. 

So I find myself here, in the relative quiet of my dark house, listening to the sounds of children breathing, Josh snoring, and fireworks. It’s hard to watch 2015 go, knowing that it means my children are older and time is short. It’s also joyful to look ahead to the beautiful times that await us. 

So goodbye year. I’ll always remember you (especially as o fill out forms). 

I pray that we all enjoy the blessings bestowed on us, and learn from the past, but leave it behind. 

Happy New Year