Out With The Old

Herself speaks.

Farewell, 2018. You were quite a year.

In truth, I hope not to have a year like 2018 again. While there were certainly some highlights -- including the unforgettable passing of the bar exam, and a visit northward to my educational roots --  there were many hard parts, too. There was the agony of the bar exam itself (which is not erased by the success at the end). And I held the hands, literally and metaphorically, of elderly relatives through their medical procedures. I worried about the trials and tribulations of the Offspring. I bade farewell to Rocky the Hamster, Tio the Elderly Three-Toothed Dog, and Ruth the Departed-too-soon Fish. There were many small moments, most unwritten, in which I made an effort to change my viewpoint, to try harder, to help more and need less.

It was a lot. I am tired.

Let us hope brighter skies are ahead.
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I try to make New Year's resolutions every year. Some I keep; some fall by the wayside (such is life). There are many things I would like to have happen in the new year, but I have no control over the majority of them -- and so I do not hope for them, but merely hope for the best. I can address only what I can change myself.

Perhaps I will start by looking after myself better. A permutation of, and an addition to, the Golden Rule: I will not merely do unto others as I would have them do unto me, I will take care of myself in the same way I would like to be taken care of.

No one else will do it for me. And if I do not look after myself, I cannot adequately look after those who depend upon me.

Perhaps I shall start with a nap.

Happy New Year, intrepid readers. I wish you warmth, and kindness, and Good Things.

Let us look ahead.