as i sit inside on this cold end-of-december morning in which i can feel 2009 surrendering to its icy inevitable death, i am very much aware of the rhythm of the years, the rise and fall, and finally, the crushing winter weight of every dozen months or so. and so another year collapses under the burden of turned calendar pages.
but just before 2009 gives its dark virgin birth to a whole new year, i stand again at that annual crossroads, seeing both how far we've come and how far we have yet to go. and yet, even here, i remember, most of all, that i just want to be present for these moments we have right now, before they become only memories, or worse, are forgotten completely. i want to be present to the wide-eyed wonder of unopened gifts, and the unabashed joy of an opened toy, glimmering with untouched plastic. i want to be present to the unrivaled determination of the blades of grass poking up through the dirty blanket of snow. i want to be present to the fury of cousins playing together without reservation or inhibition. i want to be present to the stillness of unscheduled time, the pattern of my sons' sleepy breathing, and the warmth of my wife's body in defiance to the threats of these december days.
sure, i look back. and it looks great. it's been a great year. there is much to celebrate. more than i can remember, really. and i look forward, too. 2010 looks just as scary and awesome and humbling as 2009 did not too long ago. but more than all that looking around, i simply want to notice where i am. right here. the best place i could be, really: with the ones i love.
thank you God, for that.