The Last Day

I raised the curtain in our bedroom this morning and saw the sky turning colors just in the right spot. I ran out into the kitchen where Paul was making breakfast for everybody (you can’t have him; he’s mine) and said, “I’ll be right back! I have to take a picture of the tree.” 

Everyone in my house is acclimated to mild lunacy and paid no attention as I threw a hoodie on over my wet hair and ran out to the car. 

I got to the end of the lane and turned the car around. I could see the neighbors eating breakfast by their window. They looked up but went back to their toast. (They are also used to me.) I got snow in my shoes when I jumped the ditch because I hadn’t bothered with socks. 

It was worth it. 


For a lot of folks, 2016 hasn’t been a great year. This is always true for some individuals, but it’s been a hard year in a much larger way. A lot of people are worried about a lot of things. 

All the people aren’t worried about all the same things, because it’s also been a very confusing year. I think it was around the time of scary clown sightings that I finally said, “I know this makes me sound like an old crotchety person, but I don’t think I understand the world anymore.” 

I know that calendar boundaries are just a way of keeping track of things. Tomorrow is just the next day and the day after that is just another next day. I know this, and yet I am grateful for this goodbye salute from 2016. 

Today, the sun rose behind the tree. Tomorrow, it’ll happen again. Our lives are often difficult and sometimes so breathlessly gorgeous. 

Just like my friend Susan’s nephew said, as he rubbed his hand across a big Lego surface: This feels good and horrible at the same time. 

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