New Year’s Eve finds me sitting alone in an old house dress with rolled up socks and the dog curled at my left hip. As I reflect on the ‘old’ year passing in my final blog for 2011, firecrackers pop in the distance. My teenagers are off with friends and my husband is long in bed. So, before 2012 dawns, a few “Thank You’s” for these last 365 days:
First, to my husband of 31 years who appreciates the ‘little’ things I do, like filling the espresso machine with fresh coffee every morning and holding up my half of the heart whenever we say, “Good-Bye.” Every now and then I let him edit these—but not tonight.
To my oldest daughter who begged and begged for that puppy that I never wanted last Christmas. Your little Skylar, who has now become my sole responsibility since you left for college, has brought me unimaginable joy, laughter & companionship. A year ago I would not have believed it possible.
To my youngest daughter who reminds me often that I am old, thank you for sharing what young is really like in all its’ ups and downs. You make me glad that I am exactly the age that I am. Thank you also for showing me a harder way to do my piano scales. It should keep my fingers nimble for at least a few more years.
To Lorenzo, our church janitor, who brought me flowers on Mother’s Day but was never able to give them to me because I was a ‘no show.’ My Sundays are never quite complete without his, big hug.
To all of the strangers who motioned me across sidewalks, let me merge in front of you in difficult traffic, or waved and smiled at me from a distance; the ones I chatted with in lines from Starbucks to airline counters or dressing rooms in clothing stores: Thank You for those brief, joyful seconds. Without the warmth and camaraderie from strangers, my days would be as empty as a soundstage from an old movie set. No lights. No camera. No action.
Finally, to the 2,000 new readers of my blog from America & Canada to Australia & Brazil: Thank You for taking a few minutes in your day to share a part of mine. May EVERY day of your 2012 be a photograph you want to take and keep close to your heart.
Helen Hudson is the author of, “Kissing Tomatoes,” a non-fiction memoir of her grandmother’s descent into Alzheimer’s. http://www.helen-hudson.com.