If a Christmas t
ree falls in the house, and there’s no one there to hear it, is it still Christmas?
Naturally, we’re all in a contemplative mood here at the My Inner French Girl home. It’s cold, snowy and rainy here in the Dallas/Fort Worth area, and we had a remarkably white Christmas last week — a holiday miracle, if ever there was one. I also had a few pressing deadlines with my job, which meant an even busier period, but my last day on that job was last Monday, so it was bearable. Work deadlines always seem to happen around the holidays, non, and yet the world continues to revolve regardless of whether or not we meet them. We live and die, but life itself continues.
A dear family member died last night. He was diagnosed with cancer a few months ago, but his condition deteriorated more rapidly than I think anyone really expected. He was young and much loved and left behind a wife and two teenage children. It’s a tragic way to end what’s been a terrible year for many people, but especially for this family.
I make resolutions around this time every year, as just about everyone else in the Western world. Mine have been pretty much the same — with just very minor variations — since 2006: finish my book, get healthier, continue my running, do less, love more. It’s funny that as I get older, I find myself making fewer resolutions, but the ones that remain loom large. They’re the big ambitions that we thought we had plenty of time for when we were younger and felt invincible. Of course, no one is every truly “young and invincible.” We’re all old souls and spirits from birth simply trying to do a better job than we did in our previous lives, hoping to get it right this time. The invincibility comes after death, not in defeating it.
My resolutions for the new year do remain much the same: finish my book, get healthier, continue (er, get back to!) my running, do less, love more. If I accomplish even one of those, I’ll be content. There will always be the next year, either in this life or the next one.
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