Happy 2011

I sent Christmas cards this year. To my friends who live far away. Don't quite know why. I felt the need to be in touch--felt somehow that my signature on a card: "Love, Kenny," and a sentence or two of "hello," was a way of saying to those whom I love that I love them. I also mailed a few gifts--things that also hold special meaning in particular relationships. I often buy things I like, and the person for whom I bought it doesn't come to me for months, sometimes years. My life is people; they are my riches, and I find myself going back, reaching back to those with whom I've lost contact--not heart contact, mind you, but that "hey, hiyadoin" contact. I need to reconnect. Remind them that my silence is just that. Nothing more.

I'm going to begin parting with some very special things. No, not in the way of my ever-dying foremothers. My great-grandmother was "near death" every, single one of her 96 years. My grandmother, her daughter, called her children together every few years to "divide her worldly goods" before her impending death, and even my beloved mother, God rest her sweet soul, had several occasions of impending death beginning at about age 45. So no, I'm of them but not like them in that way. Since I have no biological children, there are things that have meant so much to me--little things, meaningless in the financial sense, but these are gifts I want to give while I have the pleasure of watching someone I love smile with the understanding that it's a simple gift of love.

It was a lonely Christmas. I don't much like the holiday anyway, but I felt solitary, rudderless, acutely unattached. I was of course with my beloved partner and her family, but my family of origin--my mom and my brother--were so absent. No, the overwhelming feeling wasn't sadness; it was aloneness. I envy my friends who are grandmothers. I spent lots of time wishing I were a grandmother. More than anything, I want to be someone's grandmother. Not interested in motherhood at all, but I think a grandmother is the absolute best thing EVER.

No resolutions for 2011. I've got lots of stuff to work on each and every day. I'm gonna be the same me in 2011, and I suspect that most of what I resolve will, as in years past, well, you know. I look forward to retirement in 2011. Every day I feel a bit more free, unburdened. I look forward to doing new things. Maybe I'll be a grandmother or something. And I'll continue to find joy in the joys of others: an engagement ring, a trip to Argentina, a child's discovery, the dean's list, a wedding, a new drug for MS.

Perhaps I'll resolve my never-ending struggle with the divine. I feel the tug of the music, the cadences of the sermons the singing and the sway. Scripture comes to mind at the most inappropriate times, and those are times when nothing else seems to make as much sense anyway. Perhaps it's the pure poety: "God is our refuge and strength; an ever present help... Bless the Lord, oh my soul." Life was easier when I had no questions.

I look to 2011 with great optimism, great joy and a heart that overflows with love and gratitude for the life I've had the marvelous privilege of living. "Love without conditions; mercy unmeasured." Happy New Year y'all. May you receive your hearts' desires; weather all storms, and store all the peace and love you can hold. You'll need it.