Below is a cool picture I found of a way cool Happy New Year from Chinese children (curious since they do not celebrate a Roman calendar New Year, but… whatever…) in front of a way cool snow structure I presume Chinese adults made, but given what we know about human rights in China, maybe they made that too… Either way… It’s a cool pic, and I meant to just share it and say Happy New Year to those of you who frequent my blog, along with a hearty thank you, but below is a more expansive contemplation of personal gratitude you may wish to share in. In any event:
May 2012 bring us peace, clarity, and prosperity in all we do!
Being nearly 6 years into sobriety, and having been diagnosed with Aspergers in those years was a cold bucket of clarity, let me tell you! In addition, I had a bad, bad bout of the blues for nearly 18 months which, mercifully, I seemed to have pulled out of since late fall 2010. That was awful. Hard on me. Hard on my family. They were unbelievably supportive in every way a family could be and I can’t count how grateful I am that the universe has seen fit to bless me with them. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve them, but they are angels among us. If you ever met one of my three girls, you’d know what I mean. They are bright lights, every one. Kind, beautiful, and strong.
And my husband? Best man I’ve ever known. No contest. Couldn’t ask for a better partner in life.
My parents, both 81, are still shuffling along, God bless them. My father is still a handsome rake, and my mother is still a good Catholic girl, and they bless me every day of my life with their love and support. They gave me wings as a young woman, and wind to coast on today.
I live with a view of the Atlantic Ocean, at a safe distance (!) out my front window, with about 60 oak trees around my house, a big ol’ hound named Gizmo and two cats, one who is dumb as a box of rocks but balances it by having the most magnificent coat of black mahogany fur and a disc jockey quality “meow” and his litter mate & sister, Smudge, who even in her adulthood, manages to be petite and kitten like, even when she beats the crap out of her brother over a plate of tuna, the little hussy. She’s the prettiest little calico you ever saw, but she’s a Queenie, which is her nickname.
If I died tomorrow (which I hope, sincerely, I do not) I could die having lived.
How many people can say that at 46?
The rest is icing.
Happy New Year!