“Have you ever lost someone you love and wanted one more conversation, one more chance to make up for the time when you thought they would be here forever? If so, then you know you can go your whole life collecting days, and none will outweigh the one you wish you had back.” – Mitch Albom, For One More Day
It’s seven minutes to midnight EST. I’ve got two more hours for the time zone I am in to bid farewell to 2012. I’ve decided to sit this one out. I still have the option, mind you, since I am on Mountain time, but for right now, I am content to be sitting in my hotel room—in a very calm, nice, quiet room—typing. My phone is off, and there is just the buzz of the fridge condenser that pops on and off from time to time. Maybe I’ll head out, maybe I won’t. I probably won’t, to be honest. I have a little headache, and I always forget to drink enough water when I am at a higher altitude. I have these little plastic hotel cups all around the room to remind me to hydrate.
You ever break something and try to glue it back together, only to find there are pieces missing? That’s kind of what 2012 has been for me. 2011 was the year it shattered, 2012 was the year I collected all the pieces I could and slowly placed each little piece back, like a jigsaw puzzle, with a dollop of glue. Holding it there ’til the glue sets. Sometimes when you put another piece on, the previous piece breaks again. It’s frustrating trying to put it all back together.
Once all the pieces were there, I took a step back and realized there are little pieces missing. There are fracture lines, and there are some gaping holes. What I pieced back together was basically what I was going to get. There are parts that just aren’t coming back and imperfections that will remain that way in perpetuity.
Now it’s a matter of figuring out what to do with what I got left.
I’ll always wish I had David back. I’ve thought of him countless times on this trip. I look over on the chairlift and see the empty spot where he would normally be. I found myself today just kind of planted in the snow, staring into nothing, seriously wondering if this will be my last snowboarding trip. Just getting up every morning and putting on my gear, to force myself to get on the lift… it’s Herculean. It’s like trying to drink out of a broken glass. You need to learn how to turn it just right so that you don’t spill all over yourself. You have to decide things, like if it’s worth drinking out of that glass anymore or to just get a new glass and put that one on the shelf as a reminder.
I have a feeling this year will be about adaptation. I’ve pulled together all the pieces I could find, and now it’s time to sort out what we can do with them.
