As we both know, I love notes-either writing or receiving- and feel I best express myself therein. So it seems only fair to write a letter to you expressing my overwhelming joy, disappointment, confusion, sadness, and hope towards you.
The joy you have borne me takes form in the many lessons and moments of laughter experienced throughout your 365 days. What those lessons are I cannot definitively nor exhaustively explain but for the few distinct examples that have already formed direct impressions- learning how to navigate sadness (more on that later) and move on from it, how to love others, how to do what is best for me and how to honour God in doing so. The points of laughter need no explanation-laughter is one of the few things in life that does not.
You disappointed me through promises that I or others did not keep, and goals we did not reach together. For this I blame myself– you are a creature of time and I am a creature subject to you. I am responsible for my own actions and reactions. This too was a lesson.
You confused me, and still do. How do you march so tenaciously, mercilessly forward? What watch do you keep, what beat guards your steps? Perhaps if I understood how you move (besides the obvious direction forward) I would be content to not understand you yourself. But then again, you are your movement, and therein lies the paradox of relativity and how we -I- relate to it.
You bore much sadness. I have cried hardly at all and that, I think, is the greatest sign of sorrow. It is to be so full of emptiness that it pours out of you in ceaseless, blank nothing. You take away dear loved ones with you as you leave, and I must remind myself that it is no ones’ fault as God is not surprised by the timing of death, and neither should we be. To sit in consternation would be to embrace bitterness.
And then there is hope. How hope for something in the past, you ask? It is because the past bears heavily on the future. The laws of physics apply to life in more ways than I like to acknowledge, but I am bound to point out that Newton’s third law works with choices too- there is an equal and opposite reaction for each selection I make, consciously or otherwise, and I am certain to see those reactions throughout the coming days of this bright new beast of 2015. I hope that the things I learned educate and shape my decisions in the now- this tiny, fleeting moment touching eternity that we call The Present.
So there you have it. I am allowing you to be 365 days of life and lessons, and no more. Not a grey dog of grief to haunt me nor a snowglobe of nostalgia to be turned upside down whenever I want to feel sorry for myself. You are the past, and I am ready to say hello to the future.
It’s been grand.