Saturday, December 31, 2011

Ring out, wild belles

I'm writing this to the sound of steady rain.  The temperature, for December in New England, feels downright temperate.  The puppies are curled up snoring at my feet.  My grandmother's little Christmas tree glows brightly on Don's mother's little stand.  The house is quiet, clean and exudes warmth and contentment.  It's an unexpected ending to a year that began with a lightning bolt, then continued on a rollercoaster of highs so high and lows so low - to borrow Don's phrase - I have literally felt breathless.

I've caught myself holding my breath and tensing my shoulders too often this past year, too...braced, I suppose, against fate's whiplash.  This year's crazy weather was a fitting backdrop for a year that brought my granddaughter on my birthday, then took my father a scant week later.   The last chains  of my connection to my exhusband are falling away - not only has my youngest turned 18, my ex announced plans to finally sell the house we owned when we were married and move to another city.  My writing has gone in a whole new direction and turn I had not the slightest inkling of this time last year.

Last year, I felt shattered and broken.  This year I see how the shattered places are where the light shines through.  Last year I was consumed with hopelessness...this year, despite the fact that many things remain the same and others have irrevocably changed beyond my control, I have a profound sense of hope and gratitude for the lessons this year brought.  One of the things I am most grateful for, is that they were, for the most part, swift and tempered with mercy.  This year I have a lot to be thankful for. 

Which is why, I suppose, that when Gina Barecca asked for New Year's poems, the one that came to my mind was Sarah Willams' The Old Astronomer to His Pupil:  "Though my soul shall set in darkness, I shall rise to perfect light; I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night." 
Whatever the coming year brings... be it Armageddon or anything else, it's my intention to go gladly into this bright night. 


Kathy said...

Happy New Year. Thank you for being a friend.

Walk in the Woods said...

Yes, this past calendar year has been a ride. I wish you ~ and all of us ~ a path more gentle, one that will offer nurturance, care and compassion beyond our wildest dreams.


Annie Kelleher said...

Thank you, too, Kathy..blogging that brought us together! and thank you, too, rose, for that wonderful wish for us all.. xoxox

Kim said...

Happy New Year Annie. I'm so glad you are a part of my life.

Anonymous said...

This is a beautiful post. I live that poetic quote. Had quite the ride myself last year. And the year before. I'm truly happy and ready for what the universe has in store. Kmr