I've learned to never say "thank goodness the year is over"

At the end of every year, I often hear people say how awful the year had been and point out all the terrible things that had happened to them.  They say things like, “I can’t wait for (insert year here) to end” or “Next year has to be better than this one was”, etc…..  But if anything it seemed as if each year gets worse instead of better. I was guilty of it for many years myself.  I've learned to never say "thank goodness the year is over", because it seemed to be a surefire way to make the next year even worse.

For a while I thought, ok, well maybe if I just quit saying at the end of the year that I couldn’t wait to put it all behind me, that the next year would be better than the last.  But that simply isn’t how it works. No matter what the numbers change to when midnight hits on December 31^st, every year is going to have its ups and downs. 

This year, we saw a lot of downs. Obviously my year literally started with a diagnosis of cancer, and the mistake of opting for a lumpectomy instead of a mastectomy. Hindsight is 20/20 and if I could start this year all over I would definitely do things differently.  Once the radiation started, the first infection set in and I ended up missing more work than I had planned. The surgery to fix my lopsidedness that was supposed to leave me off work for 10 days is going to keep me out for much closer to 6 months instead while dealing with one of those 1 in a billion chance of getting infections that are more common in cows than humans – there’s a real self esteem booster. 

I spent a total of 17 days in the hospital this year, with part of that in an 11 day stretch. 3 surgeries. Dozens of blown IVs, and 2 PICC lines, one of which gave me a blood clot. 

Depression, boredom, severe lack of energy, missing out on so many things with my children and grandchildren. The word “unfair” comes to mind often.

Lately my parents haven’t been doing well, and I have hardly been able to see them due to treatments and doctor orders to stay at home. But it has gotten to the point where the doctor’s orders can’t keep me away any more. I can’t let them. I don’t want to live the rest of my life with the regret that I didn’t see my parents enough because a doctor thinks it could expose me to something to weaken my immune system further. I get that just fine waiting in doctors’ offices for several hours with patients who are hacking their germs into the air.

This year two of our children announced they will be getting divorced. No matter how old they are, they are our kids, and when they hurt, we hurt for them. 

Though I’ve had a rough time health wise this year, both physically and the emotional side effects, it’s been this last week that has been one of the hardest. 

When I was told I had cancer, I knew I could do something about it. I knew I could fight it. But a few days ago when I got a text message in the morning to call a friend, I soon felt total helpless. Her news was something I never would have expected. Her husband was gone. He had died suddenly, and there was nothing I nor anyone else could do. We couldn’t bring him back. We couldn’t turn the calendar back and ask for a do over. The only thing I can do is try to be there for her, and remember him fondly as the fun and caring man he was.

Then this morning, my husband woke me to the news of another death. This time it was the man who had literally snuck around behind Mike’s back to get us set up on a phone call that led to our first (blind) date.  I worked with his wife and I know she too is going through agony.

So now, two wonderful women are mourning the loss of the love of their lives. Their soul mates have gone on ahead and left them behind to carry on without them. It makes my problems seems small. 

What I’ve learned though is this: on December 31^st at midnight, when the year turns from 2015 to 2016, nothing changes.  The pain is still there. There is no fresh start. The year may end with a different number, but it doesn’t erase the pain. It doesn’t make the bad all better.

But it also doesn’t take away the good.

This year I was able to take a one of a kind trip to New Orleans for my birthday – because of the cancer. That trip wouldn’t have happened without it. 

We went to Florida and were able to see Taylor, Kelly and Naz. I swam in the ocean, collected dozens of shells, caught a beautiful blue fish (and threw him back), and had a brief a conversation with a dolphin. I had never even seen the ocean before. 

Taylor was able to come and visit us a couple of times, and was here for one of my surgeries.

We saw The Rebirth Brass Band in concert and We Banjo Three.

We got the outside of the house painted with the help of our friends.

I found out who would be there for me in a time of need, and wouldn’t. 

I attended Women’s Weekend in Lake Geneva and spent a lot of time getting drunk with my daughter.

We welcomed Nadine, our 5^th grandchildren into the world. 

We got 2 ducks, Marga and Rita.

We went to Mackinac Island for our anniversary and though I wasn’t in very great shape, I was able to visit the home of my great great great great great great grandmother, and stand on the same veranda she would have to look out at the lake. I was able to see and touch the tomb where she was buried along with her daughter and grandson.

I saw Star Wars Episode 7.

I got a new position at work and I can’t wait to actually get back there to do it again.

I had a new book come out, and picked up a few more writing assignments.

These things don’t take away the bad things that have happened but they do help to even them out. But as usual I will not be making New Year’s resolutions, I don’t believe in them. If you want to make a change in your life you do it, you don’t put it off until January 1^st and then blow it off a few weeks later. 

Even if the New Year meant a real brand new start, one with a clean slate, I wouldn’t take it. The good comes with the bad, and we just have to learn how to balance it out. Every year is going to have its great times and every year is going to have some devastation.  It’s not the numbers in the year that makes the difference, blaming a date does us no good. It’s all in how we deal with it instead.