Wrestling

I was listening to Bob and Doug Mackenzie's 12 Days of Christmas on the radio on Christmas Eve and one of them referred to today as Wrestling Day. It seems apt. I've been wrestling with feelings of apprehension, fatigue, desire, and doubt all day. I'm not sure why. Maybe because this time of year always makes me reflect back on the year that's past and try to plan a better year to come, as I never measure up to my own expectations.

This past year was eventful. I started teaching again after a 9-month hiatus last January. I was also quite anxiously awaiting the report that has since caused so much anguish and distracted myself by trying to buy houses. I did buy one eventually, but only after my first house didn't pass inspection. The second was this one and I remember that when I walked in my agent was waiting for me, sprawled on a lawn chair set up in the living room, and he said, "I think this it it."

I wasn't convinced at first, but the little house grew on me. Now I love it. I'm so glad to have it.

In February I was packing and planning my move, which happened mid-March. The report was ready the week I moved in, but it came out a week or so later and was devastating, as it recommended the half-time access I'd been fighting for three years. [Interestingly, here we are 9 months later and that still hasn't been implemented.]

I can't remember, April through June, except that the cruelest month seemed to extend through the whole period. In July, A began her integration program and I had no work. Summer passed by quickly, measured in cherry tomatoes ripening on sprawling vines along my driveway. We travelled north in August before she began school.

September through December of this year was the most challenging period of all, with A starting school, me teaching 3 new classes, and the case conference. Oh yes, and in there somewhere E and I were officially engaged. The year was the best and worst of times, but I'm thankful for the fleeting days of joy.

Today . . . was that. E and I sat for hours on his leather couch in front of the fire, reading and talking, with the low sun seeping through the back windows. It was soothingly silent for the first time in days. I could hear the hum of the gas and the tick of the clock, but nothing else.

I asked him at supper last night what his 5 predicitons for the year to come were. He said, "I have no idea." I'll try some here, some sure things, some not:

1. I'll meet E's ex-wife for the first time.
2. My ex and I will finally settle on a schedule for A.
3. Things will settle and clear.
4. I'll start something new.
5. We'll move forward, all of us.

Hmm. I hate putting anything down, thinking I'll jinx it, but I'll do it all the same and cross my fingers.

I've been reading Carol Shields today. I finished my latest Joanna Trollope novel on Christmas Day. Both authors make me more certain in my own uncertainty, if that makes any sense. I feel less lonely in it, anyway. They make me think that it is part of the female condition to feel at odds with our roles and obligations and to be struggling to feel authentic admist them.