I woke up thinking about the song California Dreaming. All the leaves are brown today and the sky is that shade of grey of rain and storms that occur often in Alabama.
I have survived the holidays another year without Rick. It's so different and how I miss all those things we did together. In many ways, 2022 has been the hardest year so far. I no longer expect anything to get easier, now I just try to gird my loins and deal with the hard stuff. I don't think of myself as strong or weak, just that I have the willingness to do whatever the day asks of me.
Rick Watson loved New Years. He saw it as a clean slate and loved making resolutions and setting goals more than any human I have ever known.
For me, I never was very fond of resolutions, but for about twenty years I created vision boards. I haven't done that since Rick died in 2020. Those visions for that year died with Rick and it has been difficult for me to envision a future. I am thinking I might create a new one for my birthday in March.
The rain is pounding on my tin roof, and I take comfort in that sound. It inspires me, that and the grey skies. The day Rick died, it was a blistering hot day in July with bright blue skies. I still find it strange to attempt joy on sunny days with blue skies.
I have made a New Year's wish...I wish for my eyes to be open to possibilities and my heart to be open to hope. If I have goals for 2023 it is to rediscover who I am, to regain as much of my creative energy as possible, to see friends in distant lands, live each day with grace and kindness and however much time there is left in my hourglass, to spend it wisely.
I wish all of you a year of kindness, good health and hope.
Happy New Year
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