And so here we are, on the eve of the New Year -- a year that will be all about saying goodbye to the old way of doing things and hello to our new stage of life. A year in which I need to accept that the traditions that revolved around my children can evolve and yet still be meaningful and intimate.
I'm glad the world did not end so I could enjoy a few days of Forced Family Fun with some pretty awesome adults.
Largely, I manage to cling to my summer me until November, when early darkness drives me toward a different light, one whose radiance is contained only by a door. Opening the refrigerator, I reach for comfort foods to assuage my discomfort with the calendar before crawling under the comforter, the fridge door open all this uncomfortable time, my weight shifting from foot to foot and season to season.
Winter time can be wonderful. But when the sun has been hiding for weeks on end and you're cooped up in the house, it's easy to go stir crazy - I know I do. Rather than slipping into a winter funk, use these dark days as an opportunity to get organized, get motivated and try your hand at something new.
There is something about the anticipation of a new year that gives us a clean slate and prompts us to recommit to improving ourselves. Use that energy to jumpstart your transformation.
Embrace the little moments of your children being home this holiday week. Don't fret at the 100 pounds of laundry they lugged home because they didn't do it all semester. (Now I know why my daughter kept saying she had nothing to wear.)
Being alone doesn't necessarily mean being lonely, just as being around people doesn't automatically erase loneliness. Worn-out marriages. Friendships where we wait and wait to be asked "And how are you?" and acknowledged as owning a heartbeat. Crowded gatherings where everybody is feeling some "belong" vibe that has apparently skipped us over.
I am over 50, but "This Is 40," the new movie starring Paul Rudd and Leslie Mann, empowered me more than any self-help book I've read about middle age and long-term marriage. And I've read a lot.
Moving now into winter, I leave behind a version of myself that no longer exists. In its place is a woman who is more capable, more resilient, more evolved. Like the bare tree that awaits the tender, green shoots of spring, I stand ready for what comes next.