Happy New Year!

As I look back on it, over the past 30 years, the years that have ended in 8 have brought huge transitions to my life.

In fall of 1978 I walked across the ivy-covered gates of Harvard Yard into what turned out to be an experience that marked me forever. A decade later, at the start of 1988, I found myself having to drop out of my second year of law school because of a severe bout of Crohn's Disease, an illness that nearly killed me, and also defined my life forever.

Last year, was another maelstrom-like transition year for me, and for my husband. I went from being a graduate student to being a tenure-track professor, from dreaming about completing my Monster to actually completing it, from our beautiful house in the tiny city to a tiny apartment at my small college on the hill, to count only a few of the bridges that we crossed.

This was also a year when many things crashed: the financial system, the banks, the automakers, and my husband's cushy world-trotting motorcycle-riding and writing job. But, as my husband says, every tree that falls in the forest becomes shelter and fertilizer for new life. Likewise, the end of that job meant the beginning of what he had been wanting to do again ever since we left Puerto Rico in 2001: freelance. Thankfully, he's done well on his own and has been a happier person for it.

Like paw prints in the snow, years leave the imprints of their significance in us, long after they are but a shady memory. That is also the case with those who leave us, but who will be forever present in our hearts.

Last year, my nearly 98-year-old grandmother passed away. I missed not being able to call her this Christmas and last night to talk to her. I will sorely miss her when we visit Puerto Rico later in this new year because I won't have to stop by her house each and every day to spend a little time with her. While having to do that might have sometimes felt like a chore, it was something I was happy to do to reciprocate a little of the immeasurable love she always gave me.

Last year, I also lost Rusty, and I still miss him terribly. Today it's a month since he left us and not a day or a moment elapses that I don't wish him back with me, that I don't wish there was a way I could've stopped time when he was still younger and vital, and my seemingly eternal and faithful companion.

I know must of us are not sorry to see 2008 go, and I wonder what 2009 will bring. There's always a degree of anxiety in not knowing what the clean slate of a year hides beneath it's blank pages.

One of the lessons I learned last year (the words make it seem like it was so long ago that it ended), is the value of perseverance, of hanging on longer than others (like in getting a Ph.D.), or in pursuing one's dreams as if tomorrow would never come.

While I am glad that 2008 is over, there is much that I am thankful to it for. But, unlike for 2008, my plans for 2009 are not terribly ambitious.

I hope to get to the gym more often and be organized and disciplined enough to get to read more for pleasure. I also hope to see more movies and maybe travel a little more with my husband now that Rusty (The Doggy Kennel Reject) isn't here to prevent us from going away (since no one else could care for him) and Geni will do alright at the kennel.

My hope is that 2009 is the very opposite of 2008: a quiet, stable year when we can reap the good things we have sowed. May all of you have a great 2009, too!


(All the photos are courtesy of my husband, who walked almost 8 miles around our small college on the hill earlier this week in search of good year-end photos for my blog!)