This is what we're supposed to do right? Reflect and acknowledge what this year gave to us? As if the clock turning 12am suddenly changes all the crappiness from the previous year to golden unicorn dust?
But it's obviously important, or else everyone wouldn't participate in it or wish for the next year to be better or set goals or feel renewed despite it taking 3 weeks to remember to write the new year correctly on forms, checks, etc.
Looking back on this year I see a lot of dreariness...a lot of grief fog, anger and anxiety. After hearing me wonder why I still struggle with _______ (fill in the blank with numerous options), my therapist gently reminds me that my baby died. That the grief from that will forever echo in my heart and my mind on a daily basis, though not always to the same depth of pain as the day after it happened....or 3 months ago...or today. Even 12 months out, she nudges me to face the grief still, and not sweep it under the rug like I feel like others are pushing me to do. I'm also not supposed to hide from the joys.
The joys have included finding other BLM's here in town, doing art and finding a community through Still Life 365 , participating in the Sketchbook Project , having family and friends mention Lyra's name or remember her, having a kitty who will cuddle up to me right when I need it, finding out Lyra would have a brother, and having a husband who has stuck with me despite the emotional roller coaster I've been (and continue to be).
In a nutshell, giving space for both the joys and grief to be apart of my life, and not caring what other people expect of me, is my goal for this next year.
To ramble, I hope to continue to do my art. I hope to bring home a live baby in the next month-ish. I hope to hold a special place for Lyra as a part of our family in whatever scenario we find ourselves...to not hide or be ashamed because it's a taboo topic. I hope to do what is best for Lucas and Simon and I, even if friends or family are disappointed or don't understand. I hope to become more comfortable with this new me.
As cynical as I am at times, I do wish for golden unicorn dust...for this next year to be magically better for everyone. I know too many people who deserve it more than anything. So here's to 2011 and the hope that we can find ourselves less weighed down, and with so much more peace and strength than this past year.