2023: The Good, The Great, & The Grateful (+ June)
A ramble about my year.
I barely journaled in 2023.
What goals did I want to reach in 2023?
I didn't journal until March, so there's nothing written to reference from the start of this year. When I think back to what I wanted in 2023, it feels hollow now, like it can't have been sincere or I'd recall it more crisply, you know.
Each year I think I know myself and each year I change so much that the yesterday version is unfamiliar.
My word of 2023 was Build.
I wanted to build up my LLC, Bookend Lane. I wanted to build stronger bonds with my daughter and grandchildren. I wanted to build savings and build security. I wanted to build an empire.
I probably wrote it all down somewhere...but I've rearranged my house, my office, and my desk a dozen times in a dozen months. Downsized, decluttered, and began again with each season, each month, each celebration.
I can't tell you if I met my goals or not; I can't even tell you what my goals specifically were, though I am fairly certain I had them. Plans, too.
But what I can tell you, is what I did this year.
Thank you so much for checking in; drop me a comment and let me know about your 2023!
The Good
1. I finished Zero drafts for Project ALC book 3 and Project Fairy World.
I also edited both drafts but neither are 1st drafts, yet. So that's good, but not great.
If you want to know more about my writing projects, be sure to hit the subscribe option to follow this blog -- and maybe follow me over on Instagram @just_another_eva.
2. I wrote and submitted a poem to a publication.
This was both my first submission and my first rejection.
I have shared my work in the decades I've been a writer, of course, but never an official submission. Now that's checked off my bucket list...the first rejection too, which is what keeps this at Good, and not Great.
3. I've read so many books.
14 of the 17 for the year (if I finish my current read!) were read in the final month. This is great and I'm grateful, but as it's a new habit, we'll stick it here in the Good zone.
My final read of the year is The Overstory by Richard Powers (There are not content warnings that I saw, but I'll put this note that it does need them for suicide, though I'm less than a quarter into it to know if others are necessary). I'm loving the story and this new reading vibe in general. I hope to see my voracious reading continue into the new year, but that's for my next Substack post.
The Great
4. I entered a writing contest and lost.
It was a NY Midnight contest - for a short story. Of the 43 in my bracket, 10 moved on to round 2, and I wasn't one of them. Womp Womp.
It did, however, earn an honorable mention. And, in years past I had signed up for this contest and then never entered any writing...which is what bumps this accomplishment up to Great. What a whimsical notion, to consider a loss Great.
5. I took care of my health. Somewhat, at least.
By making and keeping doctor appointments, mostly. One new 'diagnosis' I picked up is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, which I won't be educating you on, but I will say that knowing this about myself is wonderful and I'm very grateful. It's not a good thing to have, so that's what keeps it here under the Great heading and not under the next section, however. Mayhaps I’ll write something about that later, too.
6. I decluttered and organized my house.
I'll do this in 2024, too. I also did it in 2022. It's not done, but it's done. IYKYK
I made progress. We have bedframes where we had none and art hung where the walls were bare. We have toy storage & sticker storage & we used up all the old acrylic paint outside (because I thought it would rinse right off with water...but it did not) and now the driveway is paint speckled. All of this is great- and a big chunk of my time. As the house momager, it's part of my day-to-day to clean, organize, cozy’fy, and maintain this house…and this was worth a mention somewhere.
The Grateful
7. I broke my literal butt bone in March and had some pretty disabling illnesses throughout the year.
Are those really things I accomplished? No, nor am I super grateful about it. Ha!
But managing through things, for that I’m grateful for modern medicine. Antibiotics changed my world in November. But also my son fractured his arm, and the entire household had colds and respiratory viruses this year (no confirmed covid just yet), and my mother had heart surgeries. Plural. And that doesn't even touch on my friends, near and far, that rely on modern medicine to survive and thrive.
Maybe it's just that I'm getting older that made me want to list this here. But I'm grateful for that (getting older), too.
8. I, along with my husband and our son, traveled to Tennessee four separate times.
We were able to visit my eldest and only daughter along with our four wonderful grandchildren. After years separated by first distance, then covid, then strife, it was a calm and joyous reunion in May & an anticipated holiday with loved ones each time thereafter.
Tennessee is beautiful, but the faces of the children born of my own child...my goodness. That's probably another post someday, too.
Good, Great, and Grateful - for my family. My husband, my son, my daughter, my two grandsons, my two granddaughters, my soon-to-be son-in-law (we'll shorten this to just 'son' when the time comes), my mother, my nephew (by choice), and my closest pal...they made my year so wonderful.
Family doesn't look like what I thought it would once upon a time, but this may be a 2023 goal I succeeded at...it's definitely one that continues into 2024.
9. Kindergarten started in August.
I miss my child as much as I am thankful and joyous over the option to send him to school for 6-7 hours a day.
The time I have now to devote to other things is so interesting and pliable. I am able to juggle things in my day-to-day so much easier without a smaller human nearby. I love when he's nearby more, but I am so grateful for his Kindergarten - the school, the teacher, the peers, the hours.
We walk to the bus stop together each morning. It's about 2 blocks away. These are memories we'll both carry for some years, I think.
10. And no gratitude topic can go by without mentioning the friends who have been there for me all year long, or part of the year, or even for only a moment.
Making friends as an adult is complicated, made more complicated by my own issues and insecurities. But yet, somehow, I have so many names that float through my mind while I write this.
Some were brief friendships that vanished when life got hard and something had to give (for them or for me).
Others were with me the year before and have proved to be sincere, comforting, and encouraging to my life. So grateful.
But even for the ones who faded into shadows or closed doors on their way - I'm grateful. Each year passes and I feel more content with the company I keep and less concerned with the company I kept. You know?
June
Why, June? Why did you leave us?!
11. June was a fish.
June was a fish that my then-5 year old won at a carnival in (you guessed it!) the month of June, 2023.
June the fish didn't live long & it was my son's first date with death.
It was so sweet and so sad and so sincere and so tragic and so endearing and so gut wrenching that it needed its own spot on this 2023 recap.
We had just gotten home from a trip to TN. It was 3 days away and had no impact on June’s health, which was already poor (Carnival fish, eh). I clarify that for my own mother heartbeats (you understand).
He sat on the couch and said June missed us, he had already checked on her.
He didn’t look close though…or he didn’t know what death looked like then…but when I checked I knew. And I sat him down and I told him.
He wailed on our back deck, looking at the blue sky above.
Why, June? Why did you leave us?!
I can still hear those cries.
Mortality is scary. My son asked about it plenty before this moment of grief. June became the culmination of all of his wonders of life and all of his thoughts of death melding with the pure loving heart only a compassionate child keeps.
For days he'd want to go out in the morning and talk to June.
For weeks he'd remember to tell June good morning and good night.
We'd talk about June, about life, about emotions.
All of that, before kindergarten.
And now here we are, on the final day of the year. He remembers June the way we all remember those we have lost - when it makes sense and when it doesn't, but not as often.
He doesn’t wail on the back porch.
He doesn’t say good morning, June.
What an odd place to leave things on, but here we are, done.
May you have a safe and welcoming journey into the new year, I'll try and do the same.
My next post will talk all about my plans for 2024, which may or may not include publishing (Spoiler, it does).