A Different Kind of Resolution.

“They say that music is what feelings sound like. And when I got out of bed this morning, on the very last day of the hardest year of my life, and saw these lyrics hanging on my wall it gave me all the feels. Feelings of sadness for things I’ve lost and cannot change. Feelings of gratefulness for the amazing people and furry four-legged friends that love me without condition. For being able to find peace in dark places. And for the melodies and lyrics that literally saved my soul. Feelings of contentment in knowing that I survived. And feelings of happiness knowing that there’s so much more to come.”

365 days ago, I woke up alone in my very over-priced, very “blah” apartment and I cried. I cried my eyes out as I stared up at the Miranda Lambert lyrics hanging above my bed… and then I wrote those 👆🏼 words.

I woke up that morning believing that I had been through the hardest year of my life, but I had survived. I had taken the time to grieve, to heal, and to "find" myself. And that morning I made a vow that the next year would be different.

I swore to myself that 2018 would be my “year of yes.” I would finally, at 31, begin to figure out who I was, what I wanted and most importantly… what I needed. And to do that, I was ready to face the new year and say YES! to anything that came my way.

I said yes to a first date. To a new tattoo. To becoming a single dog mom to the best dog in the world. To drinks with friends and to dancing. To new adventures, to taking on more work, to meeting new people and to trying new things. To therapy. To yoga. I said yes to a VERY last second (as in hey you're leaving in 36 hours) trip with my mom to paradise... something I will never be more thankful for. I said yes to staying up too late, to laughing until I cried, to vacations, to concerts and to connecting with old friends, bonding with new friends and appreciating those lifelong friends that have loved me through EVERYTHING.

Bottom line. I said yes. And for the first time in a long time, I felt happy.

It’s a weird feeling. To feel truly happy when you feel like you don’t deserve it. Not like a fake it till you make it, pretend that you’re “OK” happy just to make someone else happy…but a feel it in your gut, laugh until you snort, smiling till your face hurts happy. I felt that.

187 days later, mom was diagnosed with cancer and everything changed.

My year of yes suddenly felt so petty and so foolish. How naive…how selfish was I to think that I could have possibly experienced the worst year of my life when something so gut-wrenchingly terrible was about to turn my family's world upside down. 

I would love to erase these last horrific months from my memory. To erase mom's constant pain and suffering. To ease dad's fears. To take away the worry from everyone who has been there for mom. To be honest, 2018 has really, really sucked. 

But I never would have imagined that a year later… 365 days after I wrote those words, that so many of the things I was feeling at the end of 2017 would still ring so true.

•Feelings of sadness for things I cannot change.
•Feelings of gratefulness for amazing people and furry-four legged friends 
•For being able to find peace in dark places 
•And feelings of happiness knowing that there’s so much more to come

Who said we have to wait for a new year - a single stupid day - for the "old" us to end and to finally start something new? I don't think it's one day that changes us, but rather an event that really makes us see things differently. It can scare us, it can knock us to our knees, it can make us question everything in our lives. But it can also give us a new way to look at things, remind us of what is truly important, and give us a new perspective on our lives and that the people we love are really worth holding on to. 

There will be no resolutions for me this year. No long-term goals for 2019. No grandiose expectations that I will set for myself or my future. The only vow that I will make to myself this year is to be grateful. To recognize everything in my life, everything that happens, for what it is and appreciate the small victories. 

Small victories like each and every pound mom manages to put back on. Like when her PET scan on Jan. 7th comes back and proves that the cancer hasn't spread. When she finally moves into size 2 jean (🤦🏼‍♀️). When we meet with the surgeon on February 1 and he tells us mom is strong enough for surgery. When they remove that stupid tumor from her body. When she finally starts healing. When her pain is gone. When dad laughs his goofy laugh because he feels so DAMN happy. When mom eats her first lobster tail at her FUCK YOU cancer party (don't worry, you're all invited). Small victories. Being thankful for all the moments and all the strength it takes to simply keep standing. 😌

I won't be celebrating a "new year" tonight. I don't care about a ball drop or a champagne toast or a midnight kiss. I'm not looking for a fresh start, to lose 10 lbs., to better myself or to fulfill some stupid bucket list.

Tonight, I will be thankful for another 24 hours to do this crazy thing called life. Another 24 hours with my sweet mom and my goofy dad and the most amazing friends and family (and dog!) girl could ever ask for. And then tomorrow, I'm going to wake up and be thankful for another 24.