I thought for a long time about what to write for this column in honor of the new year. To be honest, I don’t celebrate New Year’s Eve or the dawn of a new year with as much vigor as others. A lot of people find it to be a time of reinvention, or a new beginning, but I’ve always felt that you can start new in all aspects of life at any time.
I’ve said before that I’m not a fan of resolutions, because it feels like starting the year off by looking at my negative habits or traits. I much more enjoy un-resolutions, things that I like about myself that I would like to stay the same. For example, I read a lot, and I would like to keep doing that.
My favorite author and columnist, Lisa Scottoline, wrote a column many years ago about un-resolutions, and as a teenager I thought that sounded a lot more appealing and positive. It gives me a chance to think about the things I like about myself and my life. I like that I write every day, I like that I’m involved in my community, and I like that there’s almost always a puzzle on my dining room table.
When I took a moment to reflect on myself, there was another un-resolution I found that I wanted to keep up with: taking care of others.
On Christmas day, my husband and I lounged at my in-laws house after opening gifts and consuming our second breakfast of the day. While I dozed, the phone rang, and my husband’s aunt was calling to tell his mom that their mom fell the day before.
I love Kyle’s grandma, she’s a wonderful woman who raised four strong daughters and welcomed me into the family with open arms. She reminds me so much of my Mimi, who passed away over ten years ago, so she and I get along swimmingly.
Before the phone call even ended, Kyle and I were up and putting our shoes on. We told my mother-in-law we would go over to Grandma’s early and help her get everything ready for Christmas dinner.
When we got there, I threw on my Christmas apron, told Grandma several times to just go sit down and rest her pulled muscle, and monopolized the kitchen while Kyle moved gifts down to the basement living room. Most of the food is brought over by family members, but there were several kinds of vegetables on the stove that needed stirring, a table that needed a leaf, and bowls on high shelves that needed grabbing.
Soon after, other family members began arriving, and they looked to me for direction. Grandma got up to try and help again, and I ushered her back to the living room to rest while we got food and gifts carried in and rolls in the oven. Grandma said I probably know her kitchen better than her at this point.
One of Kyle’s aunts looked at me after I convinced Grandma to go rest in her recliner again and told me I was good at that, and I was reminded of the years that my Mimi was sick and we spent holidays at her house doing everything for her. I cleaned, my mom and aunt cooked, and the only thing that mattered was that we were all together.
People always told my mom and my aunt that they could never do what they did, giving up time in their busy schedule to take care of their mother, but my mom always said that’s just what you do. Your mom took care of you, and eventually you take care of her. Obviously circumstances are different for everyone, but I’m glad she was able to do that for her mother.
And I’m glad that I’m still able to do that for Kyle’s grandmother. She’s healing fine, since her fall was just a misstep on the bottom stair, and when we left she thanked me for all I do for her.
For the new year, I want to continue doing things for others, even small things. All I did was make sure veggies didn’t burn and that there were trays for crackers and chips and candy bowls. As small as that may feel to me, because I’d help if she was hurt or not, it helped her immensely to stay off of her feet and not have to worry about cooking.
The difference we make in people’s lives can feel insignificant, but you never know how much you help people just by being yourself. And this year, I’d like to continue being myself.