I always get to this time of year and take a big deep breath at what we have done in the last year and about what is to come next.
2023 will begin in about 24 hours and it will mark 4 years since we lost Pete, the start of 5th round of doing The Hard Things without him and the end of 5 years of trying to hold it all together.
It was about now, 5 years ago, that Pete mentioned he couldn't feel the bottom of his feet.
Notably this was while he was driving us home from Christmas at the beach and while he was in control of a vehicle winding around roads crossing a mountain range.
The 12 months that followed for us was hugely challenging, but not so much as the 12 that followed them after he died.
And just when we got to the end of the first year of grief, Covid showed up and cocked up the next 2 years, which saw us trying to hold it all together with grief ... coupled with remote schooling and remote working ... and then we had 2022, during which everything came back as if nothing had happened in the years prior and reminded us of what busy lives look like and I learned that I actually do not possess some pertinent life skills to spot red flags in relationships.
But we dealt with all of that. Saw it all through and done with.
And now we are here.
On the cusp of another new year I am at the same place I am every year, positively thinking: Next year will be better. Next year I will work out how to wrangle this circus. I'll have learned from all the things that have happened...
And so here we have a look at what I have learned:
Have I learned excessive alcohol, sugar and carbs consumption do not solve my problems?
Yes.
Does that stop me from testing it out periodically?
No.
Do I know that walking, talking and writing out all my feelings regularly will improve my mental and physical health?
Yes.
Do I do it with regularity?
No.
Have we all survived another year and achieved things at school and in sports and in work?
Yes.
Have I managed to read grief in myself and children better?
Arguable.
Have I advocated so strongly for my children and the need for people to better understand grief by bordering on (or actually) being rude to people?
Yes.
Have I managed to bring to reality things which were random thought bubbles?
Yes.
Have I successfully managed all the emotions and crises and challenges put in front of me?
No.
Have muddled my way through and dealt with them in some form anyway, even though I still don't feel like I really know what I'm doing?
Yes.
Do I still insist I am not doing this 'properly' or 'right' because my inner critic tells me as much?
Yes.
Do I still get up every single morning and be there and support my kids and go to work and try and be a good friend and person.
Also yes.
2022 has been another year where I spent a lot to time berating myself and congratulating myself, of crying about not being able to handle or understand situations, of yelling when it probably didn't achieve much, of steeling myself to be strong and forge forwards when everything in me made want to fall to the floor, of laying on my bed or crying in the shower and telling myself to get up or get out and do the thing that needed to be done and doing it.
It was a year of walking 80km in a month, of winning a hockey premiership with the girls, of watching so much kids' sports I almost wore foot prints in Pedrina Park, of doing interviews on live tv to a national audience, of recording podcasts, of creating world first things, of smashing KPIs, drinking lots of bottles of wine and lots and lots of cheese, of making and eating food I never have before, or seeing the kids achieve things that have made my heart burst with pride.
It has been a year where I have met people I never would have if Pete hadn't died, of seeing my friends struggle and see through challenges that have made me incredibly proud to call them my people, it has been one where I have loved and lost and learned and understood and misunderstood and been bundled out the back end, it has been one where I am once again looking at my friends thinking I have the best group of villagers anyone could have.
2023 is only a new year on a calendar.
But it means a new page, also.
I'm not about to write I know all the the things I need to do to improve my life and I am going to do those, or I can change all the things I don't life or can't get managed.
If nothing else, I am an absolute creature of habit who enjoys her comfort zone. #alltheexcuses
I would like 2023 to be in a bit more of my comfort zone - with less challenges emotionally - but in reality I'd take just some smoother sailing.
The waves of reality are ok, I know that's reality, as long as they don't upend us. We have had enough upending in the last 5 years.
I'd just like a year where I can take stock.
Take a breath and consolidate what we have and who we are now.
Look at where we have come from and pat ourselves on the back.
Have the opportunity to ponder what we want rather than have change forced upon us.
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