As I look ahead to 2013, or, to the remaining 361 days of it, I’m a little nervous. This is the first year in a long time where I haven’t been expecting a baby or planning a big vacation, a move, or a coup d’etat. Sure, there might be a show or two, there might be one or two weekend getaways, there might be adventures and surprises. But nothing on the books. The dark maw of the year needs a little lantern light. I don’t know why. I hate how I live for mile markers and landmarks and lighthouses. Why can’t I savor a day of laundry, a day of snacks and time-outs, a day when I wash my hair and go to the dry cleaners and clean up the desktop on my computer? These are sweet, humble, forgettable days that make up most of the whole. These contain jewels I can snatch out of the sand, but don’t. I let them lie there, unpreserved.
With that lamentation behind me, here are a few things on the horizon for us in 2013, in order of importance, or in the order they come to me:
1. Drew starts school. As in, kindergarten. A very long time from now, in the mythical month of August — a month of heat waves and unicorns — that unbelievable moment will unfold: a little backpack-ed boy bouncing up the grand steps towards Lily B. Clayton Elementary School. We will walk there from our house. It will probably be balmy and warm even at 7:30 a.m. Maddie will be in her stroller—or will it be a tricycle? She will be 3 then —and I will, I’m ashamed to admit, try my best to look sporty-cute (not TOO much makeup, but no old sorority t-shirts either). I will get Drew a haircut and new shoes and crisp folders and sharp pencils, and I will make his favorite for lunch that day—TUNA. I will sniffle on the walk home. And then I will do a jig. Then yoga.Potty training Madeline.
Wow. This list is a little depressing. Mostly hum-drum. Ordinary beyond belief. And yet, after words like “Newtown” have come to bring on a collective cringe, there doesn’t seem to be a holier way to describe my 2013 prospects than “precious,” “dear,” and “sacred.”
If you have Italian getaways, movie premiers, weddings, or even a coronation in your 2013, rejoice! But if all you have are garage sales and freezer purges and biohazard cleanups, take the advice of the late-great SNL star Gilda Radner:
“While we have the gift of life, it seems to me the only tragedy is to allow part of us to die – whether it is our spirit, our creativity or our glorious uniqueness.”
So with all the creativity, uniqueness, and spirit I can muster, and with the blessing of God as his child, I will tackle the hum-drum everydays like a child searching a white beach for treasures. I will forge ahead. I will flourish. I trust those treasures will be there, waiting, just peeking out from the drifts.wetbehindtheearsblog.com Facebook Twitter