Dec 30 2001
One more day
For the last few weeks, I’ve been saying and thinking, “I can’t wait until this year is over”. Obvious, right? It was the worst year of my life, no contest: Mom became penniless (April); Dad died (August); Rufus was laid off (November). Who wouldn’t be glad to see a year like that end?
Also, it stands to reason that next year has to be better. If it’s worse, I’m going to have to start seriously eyeing the bridges and deciding whether to go traditional with the Golden Gate (did you know that almost everyone jumps facing the city? Like the city let them down or was the cause of their decision. Or possibly to see one last beautiful thing one last time? Who knows?) or express my individuality by choosing the Bay Bridge, which I actually find cuter anyway.
But it hit me yesterday what it means to start a new year. While, yes, it does mean the end of the terrible year in which we lost Dad forever, it also means the end of the last year that had him in it, and I really don’t feel ready to let that go yet. I better hurry up, I only have one day left, and that’s it.