Yesterday was the final countdown for crossing things off the 2023 To Do list. Part of the day was spent submitting routine medical bills for reimbursements before 11:59pm on December 31st. I also had to run to the eye doctor to finally choose new glasses to order before we flip calendars to 2024—does anyone even hang a paper calendar anymore? I’m always surprised when I see them in stores. I haven’t hung a paper calendar in at least a decade, let alone kept a paper planner. I know people who religiously keep all their appointments in a planner. Mikey was one of those people. His old planner sits on our coffee table. A little black leather book frozen in time.
We had matching planners back then, except mine was a deep tan shade. Once I got my iPhone, I ditched the planner and switched to keeping everything digitally. I wonder if Mikey would’ve eventually migrated, too, or if he’d still be scribbling down important dates and appointments in his day planner?
I was feeling really anxious and out of sorts suddenly yesterday. This Christmas and holiday season in general was the calmest, most peaceful it’s been in years—maybe even since he died. I’ve spent so many years trying to find new rituals and rhythms, when really all I needed was always under my own roof. The girls and I enjoyed a lovely Christmas Eve dinner of baked ziti. Christmas Day was spent in our jammies from when we woke until we tucked in for bed, classic movies playing in the background provided a familiar soundtrack.
Most years I end the holidays feeling like I survived them. This year I’d like to think I thrived. It’s been a challenging year for our family, and we made it through to the other side stronger, a little wiser, and closer to each other.
So, when I started feeling a frenetic energy I first attributed it to the rush of those end of year chores I mentioned. Then as I lit the Shabbat candles, the last ones for 2023, and sang my prayers, it clicked. 2024 is another year I have to start without him. The last one we greeted together was 2011. At some point my years without him will surpass my years with him. Just the idea unnerves me. When will I stop missing you? Is it possible to stop missing someone you never got to say goodbye to? Will it always feel like a string of flowers a clown pulls from its sleeve, with no end in sight?
Once the cause of my angst was realized I settled back into a peaceful mood and ate dinner. Acknowledgement is a big part of making peace with grief, or perhaps learning to live with it. I’m not sure you make peace with loss. You just learn how to keep living. The only way to do that is carrying it with you, and also knowing when to put it down for a few moments when the load gets too heavy—for me, that’s what I mean by acknowledgement. Instead of trying to run from it, or with it, I stop to be with it in the moment.
Well, I’ve gone and gotten side tracked again. Congratulations if you stuck with me this far with the temptation of how to make the perfect shrimp cocktail as a reward. Take my advice and make double the shrimp. Leftovers are a great, lean protein you can add to salads or even toss with pasta. I’m leaving you with a mention of some more favorite appetizers below, in case finger food is your ideal NYE menu. For a heartier meal, my Beef Spezzatino is always a favorite. Lentils are commonly served in Italy on NYE, the tiny coin-shaped beans meant to resemble prosperity for the year ahead—this Lentil Soup is one I cook year-round, and would be nice to ring in 2024.
See you next year—xo, j.