Another Year Over

I have been trying for the past few days to come up with a good way to describe and wrap up the past year. I wanted to make it shiny and fun and poignant. I wanted to unveil to you a McMahon Unwrapped much like a Spotify Wrapped with Best of, Favorite, and hours spent living a life. And while I do have best of and favorites, hours spent living a life requires a calculator, so that is out. I keep coming up with a year that was kind of good, kind of bad, and, overall, just a year. 

I’m grateful for this year. I had small adventures and large ones .I got to see amazing new places in WY, CO, and SD. I got to see all of my siblings and parents at the same time. I had adventures that I wrote about and some I have kept to myself because, well, they are mine. I have had joy and laughter and a milestone birthday surrounded by friends. I have had wins in the sports I coach and any day I can get a teenager to put down their phone and listen to me talk about literature is also a win. I have had happiness and contentment settle over me and leave me feeling peaceful and smiling. I have wondered at the beauty of snow, ice, mountains, and rivers. I have climbed and walked and hiked and moved through this Earth to see and do things. I have had excitement and wonder and anticipation. I have laughed with my head thrown back and for the world to hear.

I have had losses. I have cried and hurt and healed. I have cried and hurt and remain hurting. I have heard bad diagnoses; I have seen what it can and will do to a person I love. I have heard words I would rather not hear. I have felt inefficient, confused, and lackluster. I have felt like the things I do are not enough. I have felt tired to my very bones and depth of my soul. I have seen terrible things and heard worse. I have missed my kids until it hurts and keeps hurting. I have simply sat and stared and sighed. There are times where I just existed. Times when I forgot I was important or what I was doing was important. I have felt my heart hollow out. I have been scared, afraid, and hesitant. And with all of these things, just like that, another year over.

this tired.

There are always things we hope for when one thing ends and a new one begins. We make a big deal of saying “this year I will…” or “I will never…”. I don’t seem to have any of those right now. I wish for the things I always wish for: healthy, happy kids, a Bills’ Super Bowl win, and someone to stumble across my blog and offer me silly amounts of money to write for them. I wish certain things wouldn't happen: a hot summer like the last one, Donald Trump on any kind of ballot, yet another move to yet another apartment. 

I make no claims on this upcoming year. I know it will be a year, like the last one, where the good and the bad both attend. I will love and be loved. I will hurt and be hurt. I will laugh and cry. I will grow and feel stagnant. I will be an adventurer and a homebody. I will make friends and lose friends. I will delight and offend. I will succeed and fail. I will know things and learn things and forget other things. I will be confident and nervous. I will have great fun and great anxiety. In all of this, I hope I am present and acknowledging both good and bad as it happens and making room for what comes next. And in experiencing all of these things, in being a mom and a partner and a teacher and a coach and a human, I know it will seem like no time at all before this year is over too.