Thank you for breaking me, forwards and backwards. Thank you for the ridiculous splinters and stitches and additional semi-bad ass keloids to add to the scar collection. You gotta decorate a life with some living right? Right.
Thank you even for the migraines and the lost days to them, for this curse magnitudes the blessing—makes the day smell much more sweet and worth it and powerful. Thank you for the epitome of dark so that I may know and truly appreciate the warmth of light. I am grateful to be reminded of my body because there are in fact moments I forget.
Thank you for close contact with my family, for the belly laughs reserved for our blood connection, for the secret language I continue to share with my sister. Thank you for my niece and nephew who gently ask me to please never move that far away again. For all our moments big and small, for each and every holiday and occasion I could be here & present for.
Thank you for all the reminders that everything, even our idols, are flawed and mortal. Even though I refuse to believe Prince is mortal. He’s now simply a part of everything.
Thank you for that summer dusk sunlight coming through on back road car drives, and all your random parks and her dented benches. For the moments I have spent here with a heart beating strong next to mine. Thank you for campgrounds and a tent that hinges back it’s cover on top so we could lay there and be right with the stars. Thank you for that lake and the canoes and for my comrade paddling us back into the deepest inlets to find anything hidden. For his assurance when I was so concerned with our boat hitting bottom. We never did.
Thank you for some of my most fragile and stunning moments to date.
Thank you for the music and for the time alone in my car. For when melody yanked out the tears and I drove and grieved, drove and grieved. Thank you for that privacy. Thank you for the music that leaned me back in my seat, made me feel truly strong and better and smiling. Music is magical.
Thank you for heavy things, and for giving me the space and time to lift them. For progression, and every bump and victory that comes along with it. Weightlifting grew into an unexpected meditation for me this year. 2016, I leave you with a mind/body connection that is stronger than ever.
Thank you for another 365 days of continued growth for my friendships, and for the time to add new ones. I leaned hard on some dear ones when I needed it the most and I never felt let down or left cold. I had to let some things go but that is for the best. I’ve received some of the best care and advice of my lifetime this year and my entire self is stronger because of it.
Thank you for another year of writing, for more time to tell it. Thank you for every reading on the calendar, for every ear that heard it.
Thank you for the very clear reminder that work here and elsewhere is not done—that if we believe in something, we need to stand up for it.
Thank you for letting me learn the hard way. This year I truly found that forgiveness has so very little to do with anyone else. I do not need permission, and I will not expect nor wait for it. We are free when we decide to be. Thanks for reminding me that anger does not suit me, is not worth my time, and doesn’t solve much at all. Thank you for the opportunity to show up and face the worst of it.
Thank you for healing my heart, and for reminding me that we are constantly mending and strengthening—that she, too, is a muscle. A miracle. Thank you for returning what I always, always knew.
How could I ever call you the worst when you’ve taught me so much?
2016, thank you. Thank you for all the bullshit, the hot mess, the hard knocks, and the sweetness.