I recently got a lovely photo-filled holiday card in the mail from my friend Emily aka Em-I-Lis. The text over her gorgeous family was “2016. Was. Awesome.”
When I saw that, I was like “WAIT WHAAAT??”
In so many ways, 2016 sucked. I mean, we put a rapist back into society because it’d be sad to not to, given that he’s such a great swimmer and all, David Bowie died, the popular vote didn’t matter, and an angry vagina-grabbing-Cheeto is going to be president in spite of gigantic conflicts of interest, his making fun of a disabled person, saying his daughter is sexy, and on and on…
2016 has included some history book lessons, for sure.
But also, in the moments, hasn’t there been beauty in 2016? I thought about it, and realized that Emily’s right. 2016 was awesome, in so many ways.
In 2016, my little boy lost his first teeth.
He made new teeth, and new friends, as did I. His hair is longer than ever, and I’m finding unexpected cuteness in that he wants to grow it and how he’s learning to say “My hair, my choice.”
We laughed and drew and crafted new places in Minecraft, Terraria, and made and ate meals we’d never tried before.
We laughed after barbecue, at a famous wall in Memphis.
My son tried a burger for the first time in seven years, and will even eat a few bites of one. He tried chicken nuggets between bread, which is like eating a chicken sandwich and so really, his diet has grown by 50%.
He even licked (yes licked, not liked) mouthwash this year.
We had an accidental, not-full, but unexpected sort-of family reunion in Memphis, where my middle brother and his now-complete family live. Once, we thought we might need to say goodbye to their beautiful daughter, born from another and fought for by another still, but is now theirs, forever.
My son got to laugh with her and his other cousins, knowing she’s ours, fully and finally.
We saw ducks at the Peabody, and saw make-shift Parkour on the streets.
We made new memories, and although we didn’t teach them the game from our youth called Blimey, they had fun chasing one another through mazes and leaves and will continue to do so after we’re gone.
2016 gave my son laughter as he found leaves bigger than his face.
We hiked, and I fell behind to take photos. Because I want to remember this. I want to remember us.
This time and this moment. My son, following his dad to the river where his dad skipped stones, and my son learns which stones are best to skip, and which have no hope of doing so.
This has been an unexpected Finish the Sentence Friday, where I’d planned to tell you about my own holiday traditions but the best thing about writing is that it leads the way.
This week’s sentence is “This holiday season, I…”
Link up, please.