My dad died on January 1, 2006. We often joked that he knew some sort of tax/financial reason to hold onto the first day into the new year before he died. But it makes it difficult to pass into the new year without recognizing the profound loss that it is, the death of one’s parent, and the reflection of what that means in my life as I travel into a new year.
Several times as the new year approached, I saw a quote that said we shouldn’t make resolutions to change ourselves, instead our resolutions should be to be ourselves.
I don’t think resolutions are about that sort of change- about not being who we are– so much as they are about making our lives better, especially when it comes to mental and physical health. And about making our time on this earth more meaningful.
Still, this got me thinking about my dad and his discomfort in who he was. The very discomfort that kept an open beer can near him as much as possible. I didn’t understand it then, but in the years after he died I began to see how challenging life had been for him, how disappointed he was by it. And how he didn’t seem to ever feel comfortable in his own skin.
There are stories from other people that reflect these gleanings and I believe that when he drank, although he wasn’t a nice person, he felt that he could reside in his own skin.
While thinking about all of this regarding my dad, I also returned to some reflections about my own life and the challenges I have faced being the person I know I am supposed to be, the person that I am. And the difficult road that has been to continue to walk when around me there is constant noise and distraction to change, to be trendy. To be something I am not.
Perhaps I have tried to walk this road because I didn’t want to be unhappy like my dad. But I won’t profess this road has been easy. It’s been quite the challenge to hold steady when I’m pulled in directions I know aren’t right, that won’t last, that might bring me something quickly, but that the light will burn out just as fast.
I always like to take the changing of the calendar to see what I can change for the new year, what closets I can clean out, what I can make more meaningful. But this year I’m also more aware of this path that is mine, that I continue to walk steadily on, knowing it’s the right path. And somehow I need to keep forging ahead.