Healing New Year

January 3, 2013

Why is it we say, "Happy New Year" anyway?  Is it because we're so glad the previous year is over?  Or is it because we are hoping the upcoming year is better than the last?  

What if each New Year is simply an annual reminder of mistakes and regrets?  

What if hearing "Happy New Year" feels like a punch in the gut?

Two years and four days ago, my older son walked out my door and I was powerless to stop him.  He was eighteen years old and hell-bent on proving that there was nothing wrong with him--that he was just fine.  That was December 31, 2010.  

You'd think I'd be healing by now.  You'd think.  But this week has been rougher than I expected.  After two years, I still haven't forgiven myself for letting him go out the door.  I haven't forgiven myself and yet I know in my heart that I did everything I could have done.  He made the choice to leave.  He made the choice to sofa-hop from friend's house to friend's house, eventually ending up on the streets before begrudgingly moving in with his father where he still lives today. Or at least that's where his belongings are.  He may or may not end up there come nightfall.  He makes those choices everyday.  Yes, my son is still out there.  He's lost.  He's depressed.  And so am I.

Two years and four days.

"Happy New Year"?  No, I won't be so ambitious.  How about "Healing New Year"?  

So Healing New Year to you, dear reader.  May your 2013 bring you peace.

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