Every year on January 1, I re-read last year’s (foolishly optimistic) predictions for the year ahead. Last January we resolved to focus on the decorative side of the house, and do all the “normal” resolution things, like reading more non-fiction.
I did not know then that simply surviving the year would be an accomplishment in and of itself.
We did manage to paint all the downstairs rooms in the house, but the upstairs bedrooms are still covered in drywall patches. We also planned a major kitchen renovation, which will kick off next week. And we bought a new couch. Heeeeeey.
I read eight non-fiction books over the course of the year. Quite honestly, I needed the escape of fiction. I was learning pah-lenty in my real life.
Otherwise, we survived. We kept the kids fed and schooled and loved. We paid our bills and changed the oil in the cars and ran the dishwasher.
And we managed my mom’s decline and death. We planned her burial and her memorial service. I acted as her personal representative and filled out a mountain of paperwork.
And I wrote a book.
All in all, it was a year I am proud of.
I’ve started going through the contents of mom’s storage unit, and on Saturday I pulled out a box filled with notes and cards. Some of them were from mom’s initial hospitalization in 2015, but most of them were the cards she received when my father died in 2003.
There were a LOT of cards.
I read every one of them, since mom didn’t share them with me when dad died (even though some of them were addressed to me, AHEM). I couldn’t just put them in the recycling bin without looking.
I did find some treasures – funny stories and details I hadn’t known – but what kept coming up, over and over, were descriptions of my father that included the word “joyful.” His joyful smile, his joyful laugh, his joyful spirit. Many people remarked on the fact that he was frequently the last person to leave the sanctuary after church because he just loved visiting with everyone. And dozens of people – dozens – said some variation of the following: “every time I talked to him, I left the conversation feeling better about myself and better about everything.”
Jason and I made a list of New Year’s Resolutions a few weeks ago, but reading all those cards caused me to toss my list right out the window.
This year, I just want to be more joyful.
My dad was able to find joy wherever he was, and whoever he was with. He made it look easy.
There is much to be joyful about. I just need to do the hard work of choosing it.