“I lived a hundred different lives in 2015”
“Yessss!” I all but yelled at the screen as I read Lily’s opening words on her new year post over at Such Small Hands. And my mind went racing back through the year, seeing it all again in an instant in my mind’s eye.
There I was – the voiceless vicar, the exhausted colleague, the happy holidaymaker, the burglary victim, the courtroom witness, the proud mother, the grateful wife, the desperate daughter, the house-move manager and so much more. And, as I relived those days and weeks and months of 2015, I felt the emotions all over again – joy and elation, despair and desolation, fear and sorrow, love and loss.
And as I saw and felt it all over again, I found myself, above all else, thankful – thankful that that year is now past, thankful that a new year lies open before us. But grateful also for so much that was good in 2015, and perhaps most of all grateful that, as can so often be the case in human experience, good things have come out of the rubble of pain and loss.
And so I stand here, looking out from the gate of the year. 2016 is a week old already. Where will it lead? What lies ahead? Who or what will I be this coming year? Will there be another 100 lives to live? Only time will tell . . .