The big event is fast approaching, bringing much noise, chaos and dancing– the long awaited, much anticipated celebration, which happens to be my nephew Connor's second birthday. I’m not excited about it at all.
Sure, I have some presents for my buddy (as yet unwrapped), and my sister Sheri has sent out the invites. But I am just having a hard time accepting the fact that he will have to have his next heart surgery soon.
And that this time next year, he’ll be three. And that in five years’ (four Christmases and birthdays, one [please God?!] completed university degree and a whole lot of desserts) time, my eldest son will be old enough to be a senior in college and in this year, my fortieth birthday party (which, considering the last five years, may include straight-jackets as party favours – wanna come?)
He-Who’s-Nearly-Grown-Up whirled up to me recently and said “What are your New Year’s resolutions?” I considered his question, pulling him in for a hug. “You know,” I told him “I’m not sure I’m going to have any.”
He pulled his head back, saying “Whaaaa-? But why not?”
“Not sure. I haven’t thought of any.”
“Ha! You’re funny, Mom” he laughed then spun off to another game.
Every time I think of New Year’s Resolutions I think of a quote by Neil Gaiman:
“May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you’re wonderful, and don’t forget to make some art — write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.”That’s a New Year’s goal, wish and resolution I can fully agree with and aim for, this time next year.
I don’t know what I’ll be doing, but I can hope. Hopefully I’ll be getting ready to pull down the Christmas tree and wrapping Connor-Man's Third birthday present. Maybe thinking about what resolution I should/shouldn’t make (more dessert/less dessert?) for the upcoming New Year. Most of all, I plan that this time next year I’ll be thankful I recognised I (hopefully) have five tiny, fleeting hurtles around the sun left before I kiss my firstborn farewell for eons, and that I spent the year accordingly. That I wore the year out with laughter and enthusiasm, with love and new memories, and look forward to more of the same.
Do you make resolutions?
