So long, 2018. Time to look anew.

I am thankful that Christmas comes at the end of the calendar year.  December is full of lists and events, and we get a nice week reprieve after its zenith to collect ourselves and deconstruct the Christmas shrines we have built.  Then, after a night of debauchery and greeting a new day and new year, we begin again.  

For many years of parent life, my "year" began in August.  Kids ascended to the next grade with (sort of) hopeful anticipation of checking off another big task on the way to adulthood.   Its culmination occurred in June, when there were graduations of one kind or another (since when does kindergarten survival merit a graduation?).  After that was a 3 month sabbatical from organized anything, then we were off to the races again come fall.  

Now, it's back to January through December for marking off years.  I liken the end of December to a cereal box with less than a bowlful of  fruity O's left.  You want to open the new box (it's fresher! new! full of potential!), but you really should wait until you've exhausted the usefulness of the first.  A conundrum.  

The calendar of my mind is longitudinal, like the 12-month vertical one my dad had on the wall of his office.  You start at the top, having jumped up from the previous year, and work your way down through the maze of Monday through Fridays and an occasional mid-week vacation day.  In the middle, you see circled brightly the summer holiday, met with anticipation and excitement of its potential.  As fall drizzles into winter, Christmas and its functions bring the year to a close, while the last week in December leaves you peeking over at the next year to see what its linear time chunk may hold.  

I don't usually curse the departing year.  I've had a few years that evoked some New Year's Eve "good riddance!" exclamations, but not many.   2019 will be rich with events and changes for me, nearly all of them welcome.   Since my planner/calendar is of the school-year variety (just can't boot that habit), I have already logged many things in 2019's blank pages.  Graduations, holidays and other happenings call to me with prospect.  

While I consider my goals for the coming year (resolutions are dumb to me; I can't "resolve" to do jack shit), I also reflect on accomplishments.  This way, if I didn't meet a goal I set 365 days ago, at least I can look at my positives in summation and not feel like failure is tapping me in the shoulder, glaring critically.  Well, I didn't do that, but hey! I did do this!  Yay me! I suspect there won't be a year when I can look back and check off each goal as completed, so as long as there are a few checks, I feel successful.  

A few months ago, I had a short but unplanned and undesired hiatus from work.  You know how we get up on Monday, lament that it's another work day, and trudge off to toil because bills beckon?  I've done that for nearly 30 years, I guess.  During this unexpected leave, I was reminded I actually LIKE my career and what I have always done (take care of sick people).  I missed being connected to what is an integral part of me.  I felt adrift, and I was eager to get back to what I do.  On days when I find myself endlessly eye rolling at my frustrations at work, I remind myself that I CHOSE to spend my days this way, and I felt sad and useless when I wasn't fulfilling my career destiny (it was just a few weeks, but it felt longer in my dark brain).  

As you look on the horizon of 2019,  try to see it with eyes that remind you why we go to work or spend our days doing whatever it is we do.  For me, I tend to dread January in pediatrics, because the month is long and the waiting room is full.  If I have to say ONE MORE TIME that Junior has a cold and yes, it will get better without you getting a prescription, I think I'll lose my mind.  But I won't.  Because it's what I have been doing for years, and I will keep doing it.  The calendar tells me so.  

One day, I will miss those years in the trenches.  Each passing day/month/year is a gift, even if you want to return that gift because it sucks.  Financial strain sucks.  Illness sucks. Death sucks the most.  2019 may give us all these things.  But the vertical calendar is before us, inviting us to downhill slalom through its Mondays, its long weekends, and its days bursting with joy and celebration.   Try to savor those last few fruity-O's before you open the new box.