A new day and a new year is on the verge of breaking forth. The light of the rising sun casts a pink mother of pearl glow on the hills and furrows, the high points and the valleys, the ridges and the deep ravines of the coming days. The glow of new possibilities and challenges, of fresh beginnings and new friendships, of happy days and sorrow meets my curious mind.
2011 has been put to rest. The weave of its cloth has been at times as silky smooth as the bark of a young birch tree, at other times rough and craggy as the furrowed skin of the old fir standing alone in its mighty wisdom acquired over many years. The warm glow of many happy days is the canvas on which more details are painted. Purple are the mellow days, when life was not quite as expected and sadness infiltrated its weave. Black are the days when unexpected sorrow came down without mercy, not just once, but twice. The trunk of this sorrow has gradually turned into a filigree of slimmer branches upon which to hang happier memories of lovely moments, fond remembrances and pictures of loved ones gone forever.
2012 – I greet you with open arms. I am curious, yet a little fearful of what you will bring. May I have the strength, the wisdom and the health to weave another yard of the cloth of my life into a beautiful tapestry. One which I can look back on when my days come to a close, knowing that I have made the most of my time here on earth, given what I was able to give and lived and loved in the life of my dreams.