You know, those sunsets that can be so loud you can almost hear them as they crackle behind the trees?
Or how about those smiles that speak more than any words someone can muster?
Those are the things I remember about 2018, and there’s no reason to believe 2019 won’t have more of the same.
Like anyone else, I lost close ones in the last year. Almost lost some others. Think of all those times I wish I’d said this or done that for someone before the chance was gone… forever. Well, I have it from a good source that there’s no better time than right now to do or say such things because there’s never a guarantee for a second chance with anyone. What’s here today can certainly be gone tomorrow.
This New Year’s was not like any I recall. I was not ready to see it go any more so than I was ecstatic about the 365 days of which it dispersed. It was just another year, which as the years begin to compute to the point I actually have to think at times to remember my age, is not a bad thing. There were highs and there were lows, for me, but maybe I can do something to make 2019 better regardless of the lows that lie ahead.
I appreciate my family and friends, I appreciate my company and hard-working co-workers, and I appreciate doctors -- much more so than I do pharmaceutical companies, but that’s another story. I even appreciate my attitude-occupying, hard-headed, never-ending shed-producing yet sweet-to-the-tip of her tail dog, Lucy. I appreciate Ricky Adams, who makes me look good every Sunday for bringing his talents back to print when I arrived in the Wiregrass in 2013. (Yes, Ricky, you followed my dog in the order of my thanks, but you haven’t chased one terrorist squirrel away, so….)
I appreciate friends that sit on both sides of the political aisle, although it’s nice to know ahead of time when we get together so I can talk about house foundations, spinnerbaits or airline preferences rather than getting in tight situations regarding politics.
I appreciate the beauty of nature far more than I did growing up in the country, you know, because it was right there in my face every day. That brings me back to my original thought on saying and doing things for those we miss so bad we physically hurt. Yeah, we’ll still miss them when they’re gone, but think of all those extra memories you’ll have by doing something with them or saying something to them now. When the sun goes down, take a moment to actually look at it… or a sunrise, if you’re up, and you’ll think of such good moments with a loved one. You’ll smile. You’ll smile so loud it’ll make your heart swell. I’m betting that someone will hear you even if you can’t see them.