THE YEAR

This is a poem I wrote for my swim class Christmas party at the Y.  They were expecting a game, like last year, if anything.  But it was very therapeutic for me to write this and share it with them.  

Think back over your life and pick THE YEAR.  The one where everything happened.  The one you got through but will never get over.  Maybe you are one of the lucky few, for whom life didn’t happen “all at once” but 2012 has been that year for me.

When you ring in the new year in a hospital waiting for your husband’s only sibling to pass from this world, your only hope is that this is the low point for the entire year.  

When you struggle through that first month of the new year in darkness and grief, you cling to the hope that spring will come early and brighter days are ahead.

When March blows in like a lion and quite unexpectedly takes out your mom with a stroke, you lean in to each day and plod on to a destination every one reaches but no one wants to go to.

When you celebrate Easter at her graveside, with eggs for the children to hunt, you feel the chill of winter at your back and hope again for brighter days.

When you give away her things and pack up the home built with love by your parents specifically to hold their family, then you find yourself waving goodbye to another woman at her door.

When you sit through graduation thinking only of the motherless child crossing that stage into her adulthood, your heart feels like a stone in your chest.

When you confuse the message and are surprised to find its your mother-in-law in the hospital now, it’s five long weeks and a rare diagnosis.  Then dialysis sounds almost as bad as cancer.

Adjustment on top of major life adjustment.  Grief upon grief.   And those headaches finally get a name – migraines.

Then one more phone call: I’ve got bad news.  Another funeral, a young man full of life and brilliance, another part of the family devastated.

Finally, I could hang on no longer, and so let go and did all that you really can do.  Trust God to lead you through, to make some sense of it all some day, to soften your heart through the suffering so you can be MORE than you were before.  More sympathetic.  More compassionate.  More patient.  More loving.

The question to ask is not “what else could happen to me?”  The right question is “what else DID happen to me?  What else was there in this year?”

In my mother's house hung a frame - "Count your blessings not one by one but ton by ton."

Can I even count all the blessings?  First, my wonderful husband lost 45lbs and transformed himself into a health nut.  My dream come true!  He also stepped up and served his family this year and made me very proud of him.

My family – as hurt as we all have been – has been amazing.  We have pulled together and not pulled apart and continue to love and enjoy each other.

My young friends in my small group have brought out the best in me, have helped me embrace this middle phase of life with joy.

My older friends have shown me the way to stay healthy, to keep active and to think of others.  (Blessings on you all.)

My career turned a major corner and I found my place.  20 years of work experience came together in one new opportunity to do something important for the community I have freely chosen to make my home.

My faith exploded as time after time God met my needs and exceeded my expectations with his favor and blessing.  Now I have a church home in my town for the rest of my life.

Cut loose from my roots, rich as they were, I have put out my own tendrils, planted my life  here, and am ready to celebrate the seasons of a new year with steadiness and growth.

(Thank you, my friends.)
I am home.