Farewell to 2007

Adios …
Overall, I'm mixed on the past year. I guess that's normal. It rains and shines on us all, and sometimes it rains while it's shining (or shines while it's raining - depends on whether you see the glass as half-empty or half-full) ...

And I don't know what I feel as 2008 approaches. As far as work and everything goes, it'll just be another day. Jan. 1 will be a Tuesday, and I'll go to work, make sure my bills are paid, probably watch a movie. There won't be a thunderclap with the ushering in of the new year; no flash of brilliant epiphany (those come in the shower, anyway, as I've told you before); no sudden urge to be a better, healthier, happier person that will come upon me at the stroke of midnight.

The good
In January. we celebrated a whole year since my dad survived his heart attack.

In May, Kristie got married, and I got to "kidnap" her the day after the wedding to chase her parents through Sybille Canyon to rescue her checkbook so she and Geoff could finally go on their honeymoon.

In June, my brother got married, and I'm ecstatic that Molly’s my sister. Ohio is beautiful in early June - green, green, green. And I made new friends in Anna and Melissa. There were so many family members and friends in Ohio - aunts and uncles from Minnesota, North Carolina, Tennessee and Texas; cousins, friends from all over the country had all come together to celebrate the wedding with us. It was fabulous! I drove up to the Sheridan area one weekend in June for my friend Sara's wedding, and to see Jessi, who moved to Washignton State last year. I also made a new friend at the wedding, Jesse.

In October, my parents celebrated 35 years of being married, and Matt and Molly came home for that celebration, so we had a joint anniversary/wedding reception party for everyone.

In December, my cousin Andrea called to say she was in Colorado, skiing with some of her Texas A&M friends, so I took a day off from work and went down to the Breckenridge area to have dinner and go shopping with her. I went home for Christmas - two whole days - and managed to squeeze in Christmas carolling at the hospital and nursing home; playing a couple hours of rummy while meeting new friends; catching up with the Naramores (while playing rummy); visiting Amber and her family; having Christmas with Brooke and Amelie; unintentionally winding up on the radio (just call me the Nameless Reindeer); chauffering Santa Claus all over Campbell County in the middle of a snowstorm and getting to see giddy, ecstatic kids (and adults) who couldn't believe that Santa was there, in their living room; eating a delicious Christmas Eve turkey dinner with the folks; watching "Elf" with Mom; wrapping presents in the middle of the night like the good ol' days; and having Dad make breakfast on Christmas morning before we all opened presents together.

Several friends got engaged and/or married. Other friends are having kids and (more) kids. I got to spend a weekend in Denver while the World Series was going on, and I got to watch the game on the biggest screen I've ever seen outside of a movie theater.

The bad
There were parts of the year that were absolute crap, and those parts had the very sad ability to overshadow the joy of some of the very happy occasions. It's hard right now to look back on the good without remembering "but that was also when ..." I hope that as time goes by, the bad will fade, it will hurt less, I will be less angry ...

2007 was a pretty crappy year in the area of men and relationships (or non-relationships or whatever feel-good word someone wants to put on it ...). Perhaps a resolution for 2008 should be to steer clear of any kind of romantic entanglement … for a while. I seem to be pretty bad at it, bad at judging character (or its lack), bad at communication, bad at making things work.

Regretting (not regressing)
I’d like to move beyond (this year’s) regrets. Some would say regret is wasteful, that it accomplishes nothing. I disagree. There are legitimately regrettable things, situations, people. Regretting something is part of taking responsibility for it when you were part of the reason it went wrong or was bad. Refusing to regret is refusing to take responsibility.

I regret things I did (and didn't do) this year: misplacing trust and giving undeserved second (third, fourth) chances; not listening to sound counsel … the first time around; holding on to anger and bitterness and allowing them to grow and taint other things; not being courageous and not being strong (or stronger, sooner); not smashing the plates that I wanted to this summer; not saying what was really bothering me; taking good things for granted; hurting a friend (but I'm glad that has been resolved); allowing people to make me feel small, insignificant, insufficient, not worth the effort ... I regret all those things, and a few more.

Can’t stop this thing
I guess the “shiny, new” part of a new year comes from the feeling that by hanging up a new calendar, you also have the opportunity to “hang up” a new you – to change things, leave things behind, come to terms with stuff, and look at the new year as a clean sheet, a new journal page on which to chronicle this new chapter of your life.

I can't stop 2008 from coming, and I don't want to. Amazing and wonderful things will happen this year.

A new Hamilton-Springer will be born. Matt and Molly will have a busy year. My friend Sarah will get married. I will hopefully find a new job in a new place, hopefully with a roommate, maybe with a cat. I will quit talking to my houseplants (and/or myself). And that whole “exercise more, eat better” stuff, yada, yada, yada … 2008 has a lot of potential. Good potential.

A fearful part of me, though, says there's potential for bad things, too; says I should lock up my heart and turn off my emotions to prevent a repeat of 2007's relationship disasters; says I should stay in Wyoming, because it's what I know and I should just stick with what I know ... and I don't quite know what to say to that little voice (we’ve already covered talking to myself).

Bad things will happen. The rain's going to fall, the cup's going to get to the half-empty point. As I've written before, my fear of something bad happening won't keep it from happening.

Broken hearts hurt; crying ‘til you're sick (or can’t see while you’re driving) is not fun; wanting to throw every breakable thing in your home and scream at the top of your lungs is a rotten feeling; and hating someone and wishing awful things upon them leaves you feeling a little less than human. Worse than a broken heart, though, is an intact heart that cannot be broken. C.S. Lewis said it better:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

Perhaps “steering clear” of, well, anything is not the best course for this year. Or any year. It would be a protection of sorts, but a death of sorts, too. Instead of avoidance, I think I should resolved to be less reckless, to be more careful about whom I trust. That’s not avoidance, I think. It’s just good common sense. I think that if I had practiced more common sense this year, I would have less to regret.