Twenty-Thirteen has been here for two days already and I have barely given it a passing thought. My “resolutions” instead of being introspective, hopes for a better year, consisted of random thoughts of “I hope I won’t get sick anymore in the New Year” and “I would prefer not to hack up one of my lungs in the next 24 hours”.
You see starting two weekends before my final; the boy came down with the stomach flu. Then I spent the next weekend sick in bed with the same thing, PLUS some other virus giving me a high fever. Come Monday I took my final, being grateful just to be vertical, and Tuesday I had to miss candle light caroling for a beloved teacher recently diagnosed with cancer. The next weekend Zac came down with the fever. Recovering just in time for Christmas Eve service, and then Christmas day I started coming down with a cold, which of course passed to the boy. And then right on cue, Sunday morning I had a low grade fever again, which has developed into a progressively worse cough, requiring the commencement of a Z-pak today.
That was probably more than you wanted to know; I could have just said we have been sick on-and-off, back-and-forth for a month…but where is the fun in that? The point I wanted to make is that it was ALWAYS on the weekend, which means no church. Now I don’t like missing church, but when those misses add up to a whole month, well, I REALLY don’t like that. It doesn’t seem that big of deal, but that weekly worship and teaching really encourage and ground me.
I have a half written blog on Christmas traditions, that I started before the sickness started. I had intended to be intentional, present and introspective this year and really look at what I love about Christmas and the below the surface roots of why I love those things, and what they mean. Obviously that didn’t happen. It wasn’t just the sickness; it wasn’t just the missing church; although those played a part. It was more like the weight of what was not, overpowered what was.
Being alone at the holidays is always hard, but this year it seemed harder that usual. No particular reason, but maybe because I figured that by now there would be someone; maybe because I live in a shoebox; maybe because change is so close I can taste it. Maybe all of the above.
This is it. I have one more semester left. I am excited. I am already picturing moving into my own place by this time next year. I try to tell myself not to get my hopes up, but I am already planning my 30th birthday dinner party with the friends who have made these past 5 years amazing. I am already planning decorating and a tree. So maybe you can understand why the Christmas decorations in my little house seemed slightly dull.
I am also terrified. This is it. I have one more semester left. This is the big year. This is the year where things are going to start happening, graduation, working, moving, making actual, big, life decisions. School is easy, the choices are made for you, take these classes, I have no choice of where to live or what to do, I have to live here, I have to study, I have no other choices. But once I am done, the options are infinite. And I have to make the choices, alone.
So 2013 I am looking forward to you. But be kind.