Thank you, 2015, for giving me life. Not my own, of course, that I got in 1984. Rather, thank you for giving me new life. My heart now lives outside of my body. In the eyes of Ezra, I see a future, possibility spinning endlessly on an axis of hopes and dreams. Never will I know a day without worry, but never will I know a day without the joy of being a father.
Sorry, 2015, that baby photos and conversations of children have been my go-to; I know no other. This is what happens, even when you try to avoid it, but we talk about what we know, and I have learned, very quickly, that raising a child causes you to check out of your old normal and into an unexpected place.
Please, 2016, let me be happy. Let me stop mourning an old life and adjust to the new one that is mine. I miss the recklessness of youth, but the time has come to set aside childish things, at least those childish things of my own, in favor of another childish thing. Remind me that the person that I have become is the product of who I was. The old skin shed was to make way for this new covering, something to which I will grow accustomed to in due time.
Thank you, 2015, for instilling in me the passion to push further in my career than I have ever gone. The San Diego Area Writing Project has changed my life, and I love it, all it represents, and the fantastic people I have met along the way. This all gives me purpose and drive, propelling me each and every day. It has allowed me to make my occupation even more of a passion, and given me a person outlet I didn't know I so desperately needed.
Please, 2016 - remind me, every day, how lucky I am. Let me say what I need to say to those that deserve it. Allow me to reach out to those I miss and reconnect to those who keep me sane.
Thank you, 2015, for the crazy adventure of 365 days. I'm tired. I'm always tired. There is a whole new level of exhaustion that I have never before experienced or understood. Yet, on some strange parallel universe level, I am energized.
Please, 2016, don't let me make promises. Help me set goals and give me the will and strength to achieve them while also supporting those who need it. Remind me that every journey is a series of steps, that patience is a virtue, and that I am worthy.
Thank you, 2015, for giving me new eyes. You've helped me see some for what they are, and reinterpret those I thought I so well knew. I have a wife you is a wonderful mother, who is kind, who is dedicated, who is too good for me.
Please 2016 - don't let her ever figure that out.
For all that I've been, all that I am, and all that I will be: thank you 2015, and please 2016, be good to me.