Your started out with one thing going for you. You weren’t 2020. For that we all loved you and eagerly accepted you. You were a time for new dreams to come to life and for faith to be renewed. But, you were also full of viral isolation, loss, and grief. None of that because of you, but during you. For that, we are happy to wish you well as we look towards the first sunrise of 2022.
Personally, I’ve grown into a better version of the woman I’m meant to be. Passing the one year milestone of VST’s death, I thought things would surely be better. Uncharted and just as wild, Year-Two of widowhood challenged me in new and unexpected ways. As your days rolled on, the cloud of grief didn’t magically lift after 365 days without VST. Marching in a formation of one has been difficult on some days while rewarding on others.
You brought God into my life again as I struggled through four seasons of independence. In a Southern Baptist church in my dusty little town, you introduced me to my extended family who’ve helped me over some rough spots. God has shown me examples of his miracles at work, while guiding me towards new life through repentance and acceptance of Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. December 12th was the day of my Holy Baptism. Coming through life’s fires a little bruised but unburned, faith has been the conduit through which I’ve experienced unexpected and undeserved second chances. Reborn into the hugs and support of new friends, I celebrated your birth with renewed inner peace and happiness. All things are possible through God.
There were days when life was just one big sewer repair or Air Conditioning nightmare. Days when the mustang poop got on my last nerve. Long days full of rose blossoms and nights with moons so full you could reach out and touch them. Through each and every day, something new showed me I’m okay all on my own. Solitary confinement isn’t that bad if you learn to like the one your with.
You’ve given me one year of great health. Now, that’s a special thing. Not just “OK” health. Not health in which I’ve gotten through bad days. No-Sir-ee. 365 days of wonderful health in which I chose to do whatever I wanted. I ate whatever seemed tasty while watching the magical world around me. I felt deeply with a full heart, use my brain to make tough decisions while making my way through more Widow’s Wilderness. Hiking the Sierra’s has nothing over navigating Widowhood. In fact, it would seem a breeze in comparison.
Not once throughout this year have I wished I was back in Virginia City or California. Through four seasons, I’ve learned about Winterpast and her little secrets. New plants and trees have come back to life with water. My street sings with the laughter of new children. My waves aren’t to strangers anymore, but real neighbors with names. The kind that stop to chat when I’m outside working in the yard. The mustangs have decided I’m not the new kid on the block anymore, but a safe place to hang out.
You’ve been the year I can no longer say I don’t drive in the snow. Having driven in two blizzards and a pretty severe windstorm, my “Barbie Jeep” (VST named her) and I have become great friends. Trusting her more after getting new tires, I’m not tethered to my little town, but happy to venture East or West in search of entertainment and better shopping. You were the year I went back to the ocean VST and I loved so much. Finding comfort in the arms of family and old friends, you hold memories of a special week of sea shells and visits with Auntie TJ and The Convertible Goddess of the Central Coast of California. It just doesn’t get better than that.
You were unkind in some ways, robbing me of Miss Firecracker. Oh the fun we could have had, if only. But, time marches on, and you were also the year that gave her the Merriest of Christmas’s, as she now lives close to family. Although Donner Pass presents a physical barrier between the two of us, nothing can break the bonds of Best Friends Forever. Gal Pal Extraordinaire, Miss Firecracker, your new town will never be the same as you ring in the New Year.
You gave us a summer of California smoke, chokingly rude. Fires that destroyed some of the most beautiful forests in the world. Forests that will not return in my lifetime. You reminded me that I DO live in a DESERT. What was I thinking????? With an entire summer of blazing heat, you reminded me that Air Conditioning is an invention of the God’s. You also reminded me that desert evenings are one of the loveliest anywhere in the world.
You’ve been a great teacher, although at times, I was stubbornly unaccepting of the lessons you taught. Through the year, you’ve brought over 115,000 readers to my blog. You’ve helped me realize I have a precious gift that I can’t waste. The gift of writing. I’m a published writer. It’s no longer something I hope to be SOMEDAY. I climbed right over that mountain top in 2021.
You’ll be around a few more hours. I bet you are a little tired of us, too. After all, a year only has 365 days to give, and you’ve given it the best you had. Rest now, 2021. Being a memory will be easier work. No expectations of anything other than what you were while you were here. I’ll love some things about you and despise others, but, remember you we will forever.
With Faith, Hope, Love, and Dreams, we walk on towards 2022. We’re waiting to see what lies ahead. Thanks for the memories.