Hopeful hearts. Quiet courage. Firm resolve.
Humans aren't always good at change. I am one of those humans. I love a good New Year's celebration--looking back, optimism, staying up late, the appetizers and fancy cocktails. Still, I usually watch the ball drop with a little angst. The night of December 31, 2019, we were in Buffalo with some of our closest friends who we frequently spend New Year's Eve with. Over food, drinks, and general chaos, we mused about how big the kids are now and how time has flown and how we remembered when 2000 came...and went, and 2010 came...and went. In characteristic mid-life mode, we asked ourselves what the heck we've been doing the last two decades and how it all went by so fast. No one could really remember details, but between us, we have six kids to show for it. I remember feeling my usual apprehension that night, the uncertainty of looking through a glass darkly into what lay ahead. But did we really have any idea? None. Whatsoever.
This year, like most families, we stayed at home to ring in 2021 and attempted to replicate some of our favorite traditions with just us. We ate yummy food, held a dance party in the dining room, counted down (at 10 PM), lifted our glasses of kid-friendly sparkling cider, and welcomed the turn of the year early with open arms. "It's 2021 somewhere!' I told the kids when they protested it wasn't time yet. Afterwards, I leaned in and whispered to Mark, "I'm not nervous for the new year at all."
I'm not delusional. I know bad stuff will probably still happen, but the lessons 2020 has taught our family have left us cautiously optimistic--not for good things coming, necessarily. Although we hope they do! We just know that whatever happens, nervous anticipation isn't worth our energy. We need strong reserves for whatever the year will hold.
Earlier that evening, around the table at dinner, we refrained from making resolutions we know we'll never keep. Instead, to reflect on the past year, we asked the kids questions such as, "What are three things you are grateful for?" And, "What is one hard thing you learned to do?" Then as a way of looking forward, we asked them, "What are three places you'd like to visit in 2021?" and "What is one thing you'd like to get better at and two new things you'd like to learn or try?"
Here are a few of the responses:
It was fun to listen to everyone's ideas and to realize that though 2020 brought more than a few surprises, heartaches, and a whole lot of stress, we weathered the storms best as a family when we practiced gratitude and were patient with ourselves and others. We also recognized that though there were many things we could not do during 2020, we did actually accomplish more than we realized.
Many families in our circle have expressed the unique gift of time that 2020 gave them and the ability to appreciate its value. On the one hand, we missed seeing so many people we love; and on the other hand, we had extra time to spend with our kids doing, well, nothing much at all. I had forgotten the value of doing nothing, of letting a day unfold of its own accord without ordering every minute or stewing over unfinished checklists at its close.
our backyard Christmas card
"What are the plans for today?" the kids often asked us over Christmas break.
"You're looking at it," we'd say. At first, I expected complaint, but it seems that we've all grown to appreciate the blank of a day, the stretch of hours, and the comfort (punctuated by frequent and noisy conflict) of togetherness. 2021 slipped in quietly and without much fanfare this year. And we're all okay with that.
After the girls and I emptied the tree of ornaments on New Year's Day, we sat down and looked at the lights one last time. We agreed that this tree was the best we'd ever had, that it felt sad to drag it outside into the cold, and that this holiday break (the one we feared would make us feel especially lonely) had really been one of the best. I had to pause to think about that. What made it so good?
But I can feel it. The way time will slowly speed up again. The way life will demand that rigorous schedule that requires us all to juggle wants and needs and to constantly choose what's important and what isn't. Today, with the kids back at school and the house uncharacteristically quiet, I feel rested and ready.
Whatever 2021 holds, may we greet it with hopeful hearts, quiet courage and firm resolve.