As 2024 winds down, I find myself revisiting moments that have shaped my year. This reflection isn’t just a recap of achievements or milestones; it’s a journey through the struggles, triumphs, and, most importantly, the lessons that have stayed with me.
A Year of Rediscovery
The year began like so many others, with resolutions scribbled in journals and goals stretched across social media platforms for months. But what I didn’t anticipate was how much of 2024 would challenge me to rediscover myself. Life’s curveballs came swiftly, with the illness of a loved one grounding my ambitions and forcing me to pause. For weeks, I abandoned my creative outlets—my writing, my doodling, even my goals. At first, this felt like failure. I was irritated and on edge, frustrated by my inability to carve out me-time. I felt as though I was slipping away from the identity I had worked so hard to cultivate. I was on the road to creating a space for myself—a voice of my own—and suddenly, it all felt clogged in a fog.
But in that pause, I learned something profound: stepping back doesn’t mean losing yourself. It means creating space for what truly matters. Supporting my family during those trying times wasn’t a detour; it was a reminder of why I write, why I create—to connect, to heal, and to leave something meaningful behind. Life works in mysterious ways to teach us lessons, and sometimes, we just need to pause to recognize them. If I had known that my father-in-law’s hospitalization would last only six months, maybe I would have shuffled my journals aside and paid more attention to the stories unfolding around me.
My father-in-law’s illness became a defining chapter of the year. What started as a simple hospitalization for an ankle fracture quickly spiraled into months of challenges. His struggle with limited mobility was handicapping us from living our lives — the daily hospital visits, preparing meals he could eat, and encouraging his rehabilitation were overwhelming. Watching him battle setbacks, including sepsis, was both heartbreaking and humbling. Despite the physical and emotional toll, he fought until the very end. Maybe it was all for another puff of Marlboro; regardless of the motivation, what mattered was that he was willing to try. Even on his last days, when I asked him if he wanted to stop all the interventions and just sit with us, he said he wanted to keep fighting. That made it extremely difficult to discuss hospice. He was just a body on the bed by then. It no longer mattered that he had been a passionate cook, a competitive athlete, or the life of the party. His love for entertaining had once been infectious, but now it was only a memory.
Throughout those months, my husband and I leaned on each other while our boys stepped up in ways I hadn’t expected, managing household matters and supporting us silently. The nights we left them unparented and unguided, the afternoons that passed with just a glance—these moments of neglect were the cost of simply paddling toward a distant shore. And just when we thought we saw the horizon, another episode would shake the norm.
I’m usually the person who does it all, who knows her house and her actions best, and who handles things alone. However, when we announced the funeral arrangements, the family and community crept in from every crack. People we didn’t expect showed up at our front door and I found myself opening that door -bringing meals, snacks, and comfort. Their kindness reminded me of the strength found in collective care and how showing up, even in small ways, can mean everything.
Reigniting the Flame
As the weeks rolled on into December, I found my way back. Slowly, at first, with journal entries that helped me untangle emotions, and then with projects that reignited my passion. I found a new rhythm with Micron pens, discovering the joy of doodling whenever I had a spare moment. Joining Toastmasters with my boys became a surprising highlight. It wasn’t just about honing public speaking; it was about seeing them grow, listening to their thoughts, and sharing a space where the roles of parent and child blurred into equals exchanging ideas.
The bingo-style goal chart I crafted for my blog became another anchor. What began as a fun way to track progress turned into a reflection of my growth. Each box filled in wasn’t just a task completed; it was a celebration of persistence. And when I couldn’t check a box, it taught me grace—to accept what couldn’t be done and carry it forward with hope.
The Biggest Lesson of 2024
If there’s one lesson that will linger long after the calendar flips into 2025, it’s this: progress isn’t always linear, and that’s okay. Life is messy, unpredictable, and often unkind, but within that chaos lies growth. Stepping away from writing, pausing my creative projects, or falling short of a goal didn’t make me less of a creator. If anything, it gave me more stories to tell, more layers to unravel, and a deeper connection to my own humanity.
What I learned is that affection works in mysterious ways and that it matters when you simply show up on people’s good and bad days. Since October, we have been mindful of showing up for others. Instead of texting, we call our loved ones. Instead of calling, we visit them. Instead of relying on emails or social media posts, we handwrite notes. We let people know they matter and that we appreciate their presence in our lives.
Looking Ahead
As I step into 2025, along with a short list of creative goals, I’m holding onto this lesson: Be kind to yourself and be present for the people around you. Connection and compassion are more powerful than we often realize. Here’s to a new year of discovery, growth, and stories yet to be written. And remember to celebrate the process. The pauses in life don’t erase the passion; they fuel it.
