Our annual "Christmas Letter" (a.k.a. Year in Review) is brought to you by the blizzard of 2022. When blizzard warnings, bomb cyclones, and plane delays/cancellations foil Christmas plans, there is still one thing you can count on.
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While I had some ideas for how I’d spend my time in retirement, I looked forward to a blank slate. I figured once my days were free, I could explore the endless possibilities and decide which ones to pursue.
Unbeknownst to me, God had already drawn up some big plans and I was about to receive a message on that empty slate.
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Are you making way for ducklings in your nest? Is your college kid returning home for the first time and you don’t know what to expect? Do you have a “boomerang” flying at you and you’re not sure how to catch it?
Here are five tips to help you avoid potential pitfalls and conflicts, forge lasting relationships, and discover the benefit of the “Boomerang Bonus”.
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Our theme song for the week has been, “And another one gone, and another one gone. Another one bites the dust!”
The four of us are isolating together, much like we did two years ago on Easter Sunday, when both of our girls were sent home from college in March 2020. Our bucket-list vacation followed by a five days of COVID isolation during the holiest week of the year, has spurred reflections on our ever-changing Easter traditions, and the ever-constant reason we celebrate.
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Next winter, when I’m retired from my school job, every day will be like a snow day! I can sleep in. Take a long bath. Read lots of books. Watch lots of shows. And even though I might deserve a life of leisure after 35 years as a speech-language pathologist, I’m already a bit uneasy about the prospect of that much downtime.
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To every season, there is a thing (or two, or three…).
Before we get too far into 2022, it’s time for my year-end review of 2021. To recount the difficult things we’ve survived. To remember the good things we’ve enjoyed. But mostly, to give thanks for all the things.
Here are All the Things of 2021, as they unfolded for our family, season by season.
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The process of “self-improvement” is similar to my current “home-improvement”. The steps taken and struggles encountered in making over any aspect of our lives can be an all-consuming journey. But if we follow through with the project, the end result is so satisfying!
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It struck me how closely joy and grief resided in my heart. I’m not sure why it surprised me, as those two emotions have been playing tug-o’-war in human hearts for as long as human hearts have had feelings. And the battle continues.
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When we consider anniversaries, we may not all be lucky enough to make it to 64 years. Whether we hit ten years, the silver 25, the ordinary 33, or the golden 50, our next anniversary together is never guaranteed. And so we celebrate while we can.
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Mom’s heart of love pulled us in. As her memory and skills faded, as grief over the loss of Dad enveloped her, and as her body failed her, she never focused on herself or her suffering. Instead, she brought us together. We came to care for her, to protect her, and to love on her, as she had always done for us.
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…But where did that leave me? I had spent eighteen years caring for, teaching, and raising this child. I was his advisor and biggest cheerleader. And then, as fast as you can say “meet me at the dining hall” it was all over. He was off and gone.
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…I poured out my own servant-love on my children. It was hard work and though I complained and often grew tired, fully giving of myself had its own rewards. I watched as my children grew, learned, and became less dependent on me.
Then the tables turned. As my children needed less of me, my parents needed more.
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Just as we begin each new year with goals and resolutions, it’s transformative to end an old year well; to reflect on what we’ve learned and how we’ve grown. We don’t always see blessings in the midst of challenges, but events become clearer as we look back.
As the saying goes, hindsight is 20/20.
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This is day four of my time in isolation. Day six since the onset of symptoms.
It was a matter of time. No matter how careful I was in wearing my mask and social distancing, I had seen the virus work its way into the lives of friends and family. It was relentless in finding any small opening in which to infect another unsuspecting soul.
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Even though the tears have mostly dried up, at times the sadness envelops me and I feel that dull ache of emptiness. I often remember the mountaintop days of February 2020, and I’m astounded at how much I took for granted.
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On their wedding day, Mom and Dad, like most young couples at the altar, made promises to each other. They committed to being faithful; to love each other “in sickness and in health…’til death us do part.”
They kept those promises for 64 years.
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When it’s all over, I want to remember how strange, different, and in many ways how beautiful, life was in 2020.
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For most of our lives we think of family as a top-down arrangement. Parents and grandparents care for children. Grandparents advise parents. Older siblings watch out for younger ones.
But at some point along the way, this structure shifts and what feels like the natural order of things flips upside down. As our parents age, we begin to care for them.
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