During one of the final days of 2023, a friend and I were talking about how the year was filled with the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, which is just like any other year. But, this year felt different than 2020, 2021, and 2022. This was the year we finally learned that you can hit a huge, celebratory milestone and within 24 hours your world or a friend’s world can come crashing down without warning. We learned that great joy and deep pain are our roommates in life, and they often join us for breakfast at the same time.
For me, I had some of the most fun and fulfilling experiences and navigated murky ones. I built relationships with many different folks, asking questions that reached beyond the surface. I heard stories that gave me hope, made me cry, and angered me to the point of wanting to flip tables. But thanks to my wonderful therapist of 11 years, all tables remained on four legs. There were times I laughed so hard I couldn’t form sentences, and there were times I cried so hard that my tear ducts ached for days.
I celebrated the arrival of new life into this world that can care deeply for you and simultaneously break your heart. I mourned the news that some of my friends departed this world that they loved deeply, even when the world broke their hearts. The warm light of their souls enveloped me at different times in my life (I’ll share soon), and I wish I could tell them how much I admire the beauty they left behind.
I read 23 books, which was my goal! I decided to dive into fiction. Apparently, I read dark, emotional, and reflective fiction. I had no idea. I thought all the books I read were quite hopeful.
Wyatt and I went to Jazz Fest for the first time, and I was introduced to so many incredible musicians. I also learned that if you drink an espresso martini at 11 pm, you can make it to a 2:30 am show and ride the caffeine until 4:30 am.
My friend Emily took me to Palm Heights in Grand Cayman where I bonded with Bambi, who Vogue accurately calls the vibe master of the resort, over a one-legged blackbird that I lovingly named Peg. Bambi told me the blackbirds were addicted to Splenda. I didn’t believe them until I witnessed one of the salty birds steal one packet of Splenda from the cabana and aggressively rip it to shreds on the cabana’s tin roof. Bambi is another person who enveloped me with their light this year. Before Emily and I left, Bambi said to us, “This place reminds you to live.” Bambi had no idea that those were the exact words I needed to hear.
I was reminded that I was no longer 26 years old this year. Wyatt and I were at the Billy Strings concert in Greensboro. While waiting for the two early-twenty-something girls to open my White Claw, one of them looked at me and asked, “Do you know who Bella Hadid is?” I thought this precious Gen Z baby was going to say I looked like Bella Hadid, which is what normally comes after one asks if you know about a celebrity. “Of course!” I replied. With excitement on her face, as she was about to deliver a huge compliment, she looked me dead in the eyes and said, “You look just like her mom!!” At that moment, the ibuprofen I had taken for my hip and back pain wore off. “Wow, that’s so nice,” I said with a smile that would not highlight my age. I had to hold the railing as I walked down the stairs, as I processed the exciting news that I looked like a 60-year-old woman who, clearly still beautiful, has had work done to look young. That was a pivotal moment in 2023.
My parents and I said goodbye to Frankie, our beautiful blue-eyed Catahoula whose spirit was intertwined with ours, the day before my birthday. Hearing my dad weep from depths I’m not sure he even knew existed is a sound I will never forget. She was special. Frankie entered this world with a mission, and her mission was us.
Wyatt and I had to unexpectedly say goodbye to his dog Leroy, the funniest and most loving boy. Besides Frankie Lynn, Leroy was Charlie Sue’s best friend. He taught her how to be a dog and tolerated all of her advances. Leroy was Wyatt’s Frankie. He entered this world with a mission, and his mission was Wyatt.
As the first day of 2024 comes to a close and I reflect on all of the joy, pain, loss, and triumphs of 2023, I feel a deep sense of gratitude. I am grateful that I can still experience and work through all of the wild nuances of life because it means that I am alive. And if wrestling with and navigating life’s ugliness is the toll I have to pay to experience even the smallest of life’s joys, I will gladly (and at times reluctantly) throw my quarters in the toll bucket.