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Last night, as we stood in the kitchen, side by side, I deveined shrimp, as my husband Marc sautéed garlic in preparation for the dinner we were making for our friends. I turned to him and said, “I have no idea what to post tomorrow on my blog about New Years’ Eve.”
He glanced away from his pan, and with an expression that said sarcastically, “wow, what a calamity,” smartly he answered, in a sincere tone, “what do you mean?”
“I want to post something about New Year’s and I have no idea how to play it?” I answered. “I don’t know if I want to be reflective about 2011 or hopeful about 2012.”
Marc quickly replied honestly, “Well 2011 wasn’t a good year.”
“Yeah, I know. You can say that again.”
We both got quite for a moment, and reflected. 2011 was not a good year by any means. Not for us or for any one it seemed we came in contact with. The year started out with what ended up in the long haul being minor problems and annoyances. Constant blizzards, leaks all throughout our house, and pretty constant construction trying to fix the never ending slew of structural problems that the leaks unearthed.
Then our precious cat Alex developed a lump on his tail as winter turned to spring. We tried to avoid any evasive procedures, constantly shuffling back and forth to the vet unsuccessfully, until he had to have his tail amputated. His recovery was difficult, to say the least.
A major hurricane followed. Hurricane Irene forced us to evacuate our home. Thankfully my cousins took us in, and even their little dogs, welcomed the now tailless feline with open paws. We got lucky. What could have been a devastating storm left us only with minor damage.
Marc and I were hopeful the bad times were behind us. But we weren’t so fortunate. The losses followed. So many wonderful and kind people are no longer with us. The development where I live was hit especially hard by death this past year. On my block alone four of my neighbors passed away within a one month period, including Alex’s favorite baby sitter, Soup and Rice’s grandmother.
A man, a close friend and former neighbor of ours, who was like a second father to me, also succumbed to a long term illness this year. And then the man who was my second father, Marc’s dad, Marvin, had a massive stroke just as my own father did twenty three years ago. Despite being paralyzed and unable to speak, Marv fought the good fight for three months, but then in November, he lost the battle.
Thinking of his dad, I wiped a tear away from my eyes. Marc knew immediately where my mind was, as his was the same place. Bringing us back to the present, he said, “but it wasn’t all bad.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “2011 was pretty bad.”
“I know, but look at our little miracle.” Marc and I both glanced down and looked at Alex. “We received a gift with him. He is seventeen years old, and did you ever think he was going to make it after everything he went through?”
“No,” I quietly answered.
“Neither did I, but, he did, and we have to be thankful for that.”
.And, we are…
Marc had a good point. We have to be thankful for what we have, and appreciative and respectful of those we love. We should never take anything or anyone for granted. Times will be hard, that is life. But we have to remember things can always be worse.
Happy
