I thought I would take to the keyboard to stroke out a few thoughts. Hopefully figuratively and not literally stroke out, as it has been a very difficult holiday season as the waves of grief crash over ourselves, at times, well over all our heads. We were to be in our mystical spot in Kauai and healing, but we will need to endure the winter, the pain and our loss. I do see from the news that even Kauai has sneaker waves shaping its shores, and of course, Maui has plenty of its own grief as well to heal from.
As the New Year beckons, our first without Maisa, it seems to bring a cacophony of competing thoughts and memories. I have fond memories of staying up with our night owl Maisa and watching the New York apple drop, Nashville (whatever passes as Country Music) and of course the biggest of them all the Idaho Potato Drop on tv. It is really bringing some difficult emotions. The realization is painful that this 2023, with all its pain, is the last year we have with Maisa. The arbitrary 2023 is soon to be eclipsed by a new number.
We have a family car game, when we change time zones, we would pretend that we don’t want to leave the kids (mostly Sawyer and Maisa) back in time as the front of the car passes through the arbitrary timezone. We all hold hands, that way we are together and no one in the car gets left back in time. We also tend to play an alternative of this game when we are leaving the holy land (or perhaps Utah) while we cross the state line border. My rational part knows that it is just another arbitrary date on the calendar, just as the state lines and time zones are arbitrary. Made up by legislatures whose pretending and cosplay become law. But my emotional brain isn’t reckoning with it well.
Some predictions…
2024 will be a time of much suffering for us and much healing. This will be like a fan oscillating and pushing air around the room.
Samia will run again. James might too, but a lower confidence pick.
Maisa will be loved and missed.
Hearts will remain broken, and poorly reassembled with crazy glue that will also likely stick our fingers together.
Conor and Sawyer will make music, they will laugh and wrestle, and something in the house will be broken. It won’t be uncle Sharif this time that breaks the lamp.
We will listen to Auld Lang Syne, probably because Conor will be playing Trombone Champ, not because Virginia football scored a touchdown.
In Maisa’s name a Donor Advised Fund and/or a charity will be formed to make a few positive ripples in the world.
Ice and snow will melt, will flow, and will become cricks, feeding another year of life in the mountains, the desert, and ocean.
We will grieve and we will love.
Mike Brass will get all theTrombones to unite.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
and auld lang syne?