Dear 2013,
We're on the tail-end of your year. And, I gotta tell you, you were freedom in the beginning. You were a chance at happiness and you were a reminder that life moves regardless of my own selfishness. You were filled with endless trips to various doctors, medical tests, sorrow and relief. You were my burden and you were my relief. You were the loss of friendships, painful goodbyes and you were the door that halted me in my tracks.
You were the opposite of awesome, 2013. Truly a burden you were, like a window painted shut, you were.
You were heavy and hard and you were heart-breaking.
But, 2013, you were also such an inspiration.
You were a motivator of Spirit. You were a reminder of magic. And you were a second chance, 2013 and for that, I will be forever grateful.
You brought, with the pain, an amazing support system. A panel of amazing medical professionals who eased me in to a transition. You were a giver of both losses and freedoms. A provider of pain and a giver of mindfulness. It's an amazing feat you accomplished this year, so busy with twists, turns and finalities and beginnings. At first glance, I'm not certain how you maintained your own strength as you left so many of us breathless (and not in the good sorta way)- and yet, 2013, so many of us are coming out of your rabbit hole, cleansed, hopeful and resigned to some of life's more simplistic means of magic.
I am here. Standing straight up. I have made it past your hurdles. I am healthy, despite some fears otherwise and while your hours grew heavy and hollow, I have come out on top, fighting quietly. I still care for me, even as lost as I may have grown in your arms, 2013.
I have found my heart again, despite you.
I fought, sword at-hand, my own body, despite you.
Mine is not the only story of breathless wonderment at the chaos that existed in you, friend. Your's was a bag of pain. And yet, you have brought me a neighbor whose circumstances are beyond my own measure, whom I love as a father. And I will not lose him to you, 2013. You wont claim him in 2013 and I will continue to see his smile, daily, as he waves me off to work, small and kind. Your kindness in this is mighty despite your heaviness- thank you.
Tales of woe you wove. And in it all, there you provided the stability of support. You gave me the solidity of friendship- one who has never swayed; one who was there all the while, never leaving my side. She is the one you gave me through this mess and a kindness you offered despite yourself.
I bid you you farewell, 2013. And as you pressed so many of us to the ground, so we press you in heated goodbyes. We are done with this alignment and ready for the next.
You chose to close this one out, however, nicely. My body won and a nice Lumberjack swept me up and proved himself a light among the mass of chaos. He pretty much kicked your ass, 2013.
You fought hard, 2013 and many of us fought back harder. Thank you for reminding us of our own strength, truly. You've given me the blessing of a mom and dad who will win you, and years, such as yourself, over time and time again...in all, you have closed this one up with the presence of light and some kindness.
And while I am not saddened to bid you farewell, you aren't one I will soon forget- I still care for you.
Defrosted Regards,
B
We're on the tail-end of your year. And, I gotta tell you, you were freedom in the beginning. You were a chance at happiness and you were a reminder that life moves regardless of my own selfishness. You were filled with endless trips to various doctors, medical tests, sorrow and relief. You were my burden and you were my relief. You were the loss of friendships, painful goodbyes and you were the door that halted me in my tracks.
You were the opposite of awesome, 2013. Truly a burden you were, like a window painted shut, you were.
You were heavy and hard and you were heart-breaking.
But, 2013, you were also such an inspiration.
You were a motivator of Spirit. You were a reminder of magic. And you were a second chance, 2013 and for that, I will be forever grateful.
You brought, with the pain, an amazing support system. A panel of amazing medical professionals who eased me in to a transition. You were a giver of both losses and freedoms. A provider of pain and a giver of mindfulness. It's an amazing feat you accomplished this year, so busy with twists, turns and finalities and beginnings. At first glance, I'm not certain how you maintained your own strength as you left so many of us breathless (and not in the good sorta way)- and yet, 2013, so many of us are coming out of your rabbit hole, cleansed, hopeful and resigned to some of life's more simplistic means of magic.
I am here. Standing straight up. I have made it past your hurdles. I am healthy, despite some fears otherwise and while your hours grew heavy and hollow, I have come out on top, fighting quietly. I still care for me, even as lost as I may have grown in your arms, 2013.
I have found my heart again, despite you.
I fought, sword at-hand, my own body, despite you.
Mine is not the only story of breathless wonderment at the chaos that existed in you, friend. Your's was a bag of pain. And yet, you have brought me a neighbor whose circumstances are beyond my own measure, whom I love as a father. And I will not lose him to you, 2013. You wont claim him in 2013 and I will continue to see his smile, daily, as he waves me off to work, small and kind. Your kindness in this is mighty despite your heaviness- thank you.
Tales of woe you wove. And in it all, there you provided the stability of support. You gave me the solidity of friendship- one who has never swayed; one who was there all the while, never leaving my side. She is the one you gave me through this mess and a kindness you offered despite yourself.
I bid you you farewell, 2013. And as you pressed so many of us to the ground, so we press you in heated goodbyes. We are done with this alignment and ready for the next.
You chose to close this one out, however, nicely. My body won and a nice Lumberjack swept me up and proved himself a light among the mass of chaos. He pretty much kicked your ass, 2013.
You fought hard, 2013 and many of us fought back harder. Thank you for reminding us of our own strength, truly. You've given me the blessing of a mom and dad who will win you, and years, such as yourself, over time and time again...in all, you have closed this one up with the presence of light and some kindness.
And while I am not saddened to bid you farewell, you aren't one I will soon forget- I still care for you.
Defrosted Regards,
B
