It was a bumpy year.
Good things happened, and for that we give thanks.
Some bad things didn’t happen, and for those we give thanks, too.
But friends died, or got sick, or had personal misery and suffering.
And so much of the year was consumed by things over which we have virtually no control.
Now, from where I type, we are but scant hours away from the end of this year, the beginning of a new one.
An arbitrary, utterly meaningless line of chronological demarcation…
…but we observe it nonetheless.
So we put this year to bed, and with it we go to sleep, to dream, and to awake to a new world.
I wonder what it will be…