Wonder how many millions are writing an end of the year post?  Some detailing the horror of what they've endured; death of loved ones, illness, lockdowns, job losses, evictions, wondering how they'll make ends meet and feed the family for another week.  My year has been a cakewalk in comparison.  When I walk into Heritage and see Richard drooling in a wheelchair, one of the many husks scattered around the living room, I know I am lucky.  He doesn't know what he's lost.  He's clean and dry, well fed and protected from harm.  It is only the observor, interpreting this scene as sad, who is sad.  

The long good-bye indeed.  

Took a couple of photo albums in to try and engage his interest.  He looked at the pictures but volunteered nothing.  Not sure they made any impact at all.  Not on him.  On me they did.  There was Richard, young and strong and vibrant.  40 years old, beautiful, full of life.  My love and best friend.  One photo in particular.  He'd just bathed our blue heeler Joseph.  Joseph was doing the dog shake and Richard, squatting beside him, had turned his head away to avoid the spray.  Can't see his face yet the photo encapsulates everything, the everydayness of health and youth and vigour.  Another photo, the two of us standing near a car, at some police bbq, Richard with a cigarette in hand, confident and relaxed, me with arms crossed, slightly bent over, unsure and vulnerable around the closed clique of cops and their wives.  

I lay awake remembering those photos.  Didn't and don't want to dwell on what is past.  Just assumed we'd age ungracefully together.   Just a bit sad and lonely on the last day of the year.

And I lost two cats.

On the other hand, I've signed with an agent for a book I haven't finished yet. 

Somewhere I read one should end the year with a list of 25 things one is grateful for:

1.Health

2. Cognitive ability intact

3. This house

4.  Tam

5.  Creativity (art)

6.  Friends

7. Nature

8. Paid bills (not in debt)

9.  Matisse and Mikaela

10.  Writing

11.  Food

12.  Red Wine

13.  Daily Sunset viewing on the deck with red wine

14.  Fresh (clean) air

15.  Lack of light pollution so STARS

16.  The colour green (the rainforest)

17.  Bird calls

18.  the Caddy

19.   Walking 

20.  Horses are safe and well

21.  Music, music, music

22.  grateful for being grateful

23.  Peace

24.  Silence

25.  Grateful for being alive, all of it, as much as I may cry and swear and grieve, I want it all so grateful for my breath.  As long as I have breath, I live...everything else is gravy.