Your lively tones keep me from acknowledging the end of so many things.
They distract from the proximity of another year gone, and also people gone too soon.
Moments frozen, but still fleeting. Things I try to hold on to, but fully understand the inevitable leaving. The good, bad, everything is rooted in this temporary ground of being.
Temporary. It’s a word understood regretfully, bittersweet and hammered home at 11:59 every December 31st.
I spend the colors of December trying to keep it all close, this life and the frames I’ve seen throughout the year. I cling to the rituals our family has and avoid the rushing as much as possible. We ask ourselves were the time goes, and one complicated answer is, it gets lost in the ceaseless movement, the list of must, should, and want to. And things end, and things begin, and the cycle goes at a speed none of us can fully comprehend.
2018 was a contemplative year, one of figuring out the reality of things.
Thanks for sticking around to see the end.