See, my reflections and goals started years ago when I wanted to see how far I'd actually come through the year. I wanted to remember the lessons I had learned through out the year and write the memories one last time before I started fresh for the new year.
A few years back, Gina started doing the same thing. It still hurts to know she will never again write those goals, or write her accomplishments for the year.
Each year, I read the previous year's reflections and goals to see what I accomplished, right before I sit down and write the next year.
It's strange that in a year where I set no goals and said anything is possible, I became so lost and broken.
For 2015 I said I had achieved so many goals that I wanted to take a break from big goals.
It's probably a good thing, because with the losses I've endured, I don't think I would have acheived them.
Let's call 2015 the lost year. The hard year. The year of brokenness. The year I lost my uncle Ken, the year I lost my god brother, the year two of my sons are no longer home, the year I lost my dreams, the year I lost sanity.
My friends and those who love me have struggled this year to know what to say, to know what to do. None of them were ever used to me being the broken one but every one of them wanted to heal me.
I've gone on adventures to castles and horseback riding. I've traveled to Georgia. I've pushed myself and forced myself to go play laser tag with the family and to go camping and to concerts. I've made myself go on every adventure I was offered to try and hurt a little less. When you're busy you dont have time to think or feel.
I also lost something else this year. I lost my pride. It's hard to be prideful when you're not sure if you're going to get out of bed in the morning or just go back to sleep because when you sleep the pain doesn't exist. It's hard to be prideful when you don't sleep for days because the dreams don't come if you're awake.
It's hard to be prideful when you start drinking at 10 am on Thanksgiving because you can't handle the memories or the ache.
Actually, it's hard to be prideful when you tell the people that love you, that if you go to the hospital, please remember to........and for once, when you talk about psychiatric care and being pushed to your limits, you're not making jokes.
So yeah 2015 is the lost year.
This past weekend, Matt and I went to see Trans Siberian Orchestra.
Which, speaking of Matt, I'm sure he'd call this year the lost year too. He's probably lost more than me this year. and everyday I've wished I could heal him, I could make him better, I could make him know it will be okay and someday it wont hurt as bad, but it's hard to give him that when I didn't have it myself.
We went to Dayton ,and went to Brandeberry Winery (4 miles outside Yellow Springs and I recommend it) and ate too much food and probably drank too much wine and then went to the concert.
It was something we had both always wanted to do and for reasons that are not mine to share, we finally went.
We dressed up and both looked so nice. I had always wanted to go because of the lights and because of the idea of classic music (which I love) mixed with rock.
I had no idea it would be so emotional.
During the first half of the concert, they tell a story of a little girl who runs away from home. She is sad and broken and hurting and loses her dreams. Through the magic of Christmas and a little help, they're found again.
I had no idea I would cry, but somethings, hit home. I felt like someone was giving me a gentle reminder. "Yes it hurts now, and no it's not easy but you can still find your dreams again."
Tomorrow, Zachary will be 18. This year he will graduate and leave home.
I always knew because I had kids so young, I'd be young when they were old enough to leave home. Somehow when I was exhausted from being a single mom and working and taking care of the house and going to school field trips and baking class cupcakes for three kids ...this day seemed so far away.
I'm not even 40 and my youngest son is 18. I never really thought this day would come, but here it is.
At the same time that my heart breaks, it gives me a little pride back too.For all the people that trashed me as a teenage mom, I struggled every damn day, but I got here and I got here without any help.
When this weekend rolls around I'll be hosting a girls day for some of the women that have helped me make it through my year. We'll keep creating new memories.
I guess now that this is already this long, it's time to set goals for 2016.
Well, even though I had a setback in the writing department, I have a couple of opportunities coming my way in 2016.
Those opportunities will help me release my creative side and help me take large roles in guiding the future of some publications. I've got plenty of ideas. and am hoping that in 2016 I will actually get to take an Adobe Indesign class for graphic layout and design.
It will be helpful with the magazines.
I've also started a novel this year. The subject touches close to my heart, as it's about heroin addiction and the impact it has on families. It's written from several points of view and I will finish that this year.
I'll start working out again and eating better again. (I stopped working out when Uncle Ken died).
In the spring, I'll start work on my yard. I'll trim the bushes and plant some flowers and tear out the wheelchair ramp and hopefully find spots in the barn for beer pong and air hockey.
My biggest goal for 2016 is to know that its okay to have days where I'm incredibly sad and cry because of the memories. It's okay to have days where I'm happy and I'm laughing and even though my loved ones aren't here, it's okay for me to be happy, because my strength, tenacity, fiestiness and laughter are some of the things they loved about me.
I know the huge hole in my heart may never be completely filled. It will be one day at a time every single day.
Let's call 2016 a year to start healing.
If you look below, these are the pictures of the people I can say I wouldn't have made it through the year without. Each of these people is someone I owe my heart to, I owe my life and my sanity to. Without these people to take care of me this year, I would have never found ways to start to heal. With everything else, I know that I am incredibly blessed to be loved so much. I am aware that part of my pain has been that the more you love the harder it is to let go. I cant function from day to day without these people in my life. Each of these people love me a little differently and each one gives me something different in my life that I need. But these people are the people that keep me fighting every day. I love each of you. Thank you for being my friends and support system.
