How I Rang in the New Year and My 2020 Intentions
NYE the last few years have been more of a good riddance-approach than the sequin-donned, champagne-filled, ringing-in experiences of my past. Saying goodbye to my mom in 2017 was still fresh along with our first IVF loss. Last year not much had improved. This year took a whole new form of “Are you kidding me, Universe?!” when my dad fell and broke his hip early Christmas Eve morning…the day we were supposed to all leave and go spend Christmas in a cabin in Southeastern Oklahoma. We were changing things up. The holidays are hard with that empty chair staring at you. The food doesn’t taste the same no matter how closely I follow my mom’s recipes. No excitement or joy that only children can bring. So we decided to change the scenery and switch things up. Take the dogs and do a little fishing. My dad was actually looking forward to something. And we almost made it. Almost.
We spent Christmas in the hospital. With all the same beeping monitors and sounds that take you right back to that terrified place you never wanted to go again. I remembered things I had forgotten about the hospital during my mom’s stay and relived every horrifying memory. I know my dad did too, this time from the bed. We tried our best to keep him positive. Derick and I took turns at home in the kitchen and I later brought the warmest version possible of Christmas dinner up the the third floor of the Healthplex where we ate together in his room. My dad went through (a successful) five hour surgery the next day and later transferred to an inpatient rehabilitation hospital here in Norman on December 30th. This is where, in a perfect world, my dad hits the road determined to ace therapy, makes friends with all the staff, and comes home better than new. #perfectschmerfect. The alternate facts are: My dad tries to call a cab and bust out of the hospital around 7:00 a.m. New Years Eve, earned a degree in physical therapy overnight and knows of a better rehabilitation protocol than the crap they are offering him, and I slowly drift off into insanity. Meanwhile, my husband tries to keep up and tap in. Welcome to the shit show.
So as we were leaving the hospital and the VERY long NYE day came to a close we made one last stop at Sprouts for an emergency bath bomb before heading home to the THREE dog circus - my spunky little Ani baby, Noni: my dad’s corgi hanging with us until he goes home, and Phoebe: the 60 pound fireball foster that’s sweet as can be but boundless energy. I went and drew a bath as soon as I walking in the door around 10:30 p.m., lit every candle I own and all the incense (I must've raised the ambient room temperature ten degrees), poured a huge cup of chamomile tea, bombed the water, turned on the jets and climbed in my lavender scented fraidy hole. I think I added hot water a few times before Derick crept in and quietly told me happy new year. And I thought to myself - thank God. It’s over. It was the best way to slide past that threshold.
Seeing 2020 with Intention
Now I didn’t spend the entire bath soaking in self pity…not ALL of it anyway. I reflected, if you will, and tried to think of the positive ways to face the year ahead. Some things I want to do more of, less of, change the way I think about, or stop thinking about it all together. I went to Canva to create my visions for the year ahead and thought I would share them here. These are in no particular order of importance and I like the idea of saying them as intentions rather than resolutions in order to breath life into them. I’ve been working so hard over this last year on self care and eating clean; nurturing my body towards pregnancy and it’s easy to get discouraged, just as it's easy to get discouraged when coping with grief and addiction. So here are my #2020Vision(s) that I hope beat the snot out of my 2019 fears, heartaches, and heartbreaks:
