I guess I’ve got a way of looking at things that’s a little different than most. So many of the people I’ve talked to recently are soooo glad that 2012 is over.  They swear it was the worst ever.  I had this, I had that.  I couldn’t wait for this year to be over sadly wishing it so.

Someone I know has a friend that reminds them never to wish time away. I agree, so as I look around at the end of 2012 all I see are little moments, momentum and mostly healing.

Beginning in January, with an Angel in the audience of Wicked, we were touched by a stranger that set my sister’s true healing in motion.  Here was another person who knew her pain but had the courage to walk up and let her know you will be ok, you will always have him and you can go on.  Keep your touchstone it will move you forward when you are stuck. This courage was transferred to my Sister when she became mentor of the year of firsts for her friend Linda.

In the same day, my dearest friend suffered a skiing accident that provided an epiphany of sorts that set her on the road to growth, of both those broken legs and the spirit she had put aside.  Then my summer sister came to the end of her chemo sessions and triumphantly had her “port” removed shortly before coming to the Cape for a wonderful little vacation.  There,we three women talked and laughed and walked and read and ate and cooked and enjoyed each other’s company.  We created a calm and healing three days that restored me from all the burdens I had been carrying on their behalf.  I could let it all go, they would be fine.

Finally healed from a long resistant infection my mother acquiesced to cataract surgery.  Miracle of miracles she can see so beautifully now she’s picked up, after so many long years, her love of books.   My friends Linda and Corrine would also battle infections that were potentially life threatening through to the end with grace and kvetching and bitching and moaning and gratitude and relief.  They are both in good places now with only the usual aches and pains of everyday life.

My people are fine. For all their little inconveniences, neighborhood disputes, crazy kids and work and struggle they are fine.  They are thriving, I can tell by the intensity of bitching going on.  It’s been greatly reduced, quiet even.  Is that gratitude in the air?  Nah, just a temporary lapse in things to bitch about; or a full on awareness that I don’t suffer bad energy any more.  They will bring good momentum in spite of themselves.

My little moments happened on my deck, on Sunday mornings, in convertibles, lunching with good friends, on my walks, reading my books and writing my tiny little blog.  My big moments happened when I became one of two Aunts to a little puggle named Chevy, when I had coffee with my Father during a Hurricane named Sandy and when the transformation of my home was completed.

There was some contest that promised as its prize; $10,000 and a Handyman for a Week.  I never entered the sweepstakes but thought, yeah that’s all I need.  Yeah, 10k and a handyman for a week, let me keep that out there. This is the point where my sister says, “Of course you did”.  Months later a flyer on my door, a revelation from my Mother that you should have this while I’m alive, and my bathrooms are complete. (Of course they are.)  Add to that the fan that hangs on my deck, the newly tiled foyer and my handyman turned good friend and this was a banner year on Stowe Lane.  Everywhere I look in my home I am happy.  Two wonderful compliments came our (meaning mine and my home’s) way recently, “your home is so three dimensional” and another friend walked in for the first time and said, “I knew it would look like this”.  Nothing makes me smile (MMS) more than being comfortable, safe and surrounded by the history in my home and sharing that history with anyone who enters.

Sadly we lost Gramma Velda this year, and the only man Nicole really knew as a father, and Linda lost her Burt, and Mick lost his Sassy.  We said farewell to adults, and dogs and children we didn’t even know but who touched our hearts quite deeply.

Yet I believe this was a wonderful year.  For all that can ever go wrong, nothing that couldn’t be surmounted ever did.  For all that did happen, silver linings and happy endings are making their way into our hearts.  Good health is being restored and strengthened, community is being fortified, and work is meaningful and thankfully abundant.

Healing can take many forms, it can happen without your ever even realizing it, it can happen slowly, it can happen with epiphanies and it can happen when you least expect it.  But it can only truly happen when you can finally see it. I know like I know that I am blessed to be among you and wish you continued momentum, little moments and the vision to see the proof that healing is always right before your very eyes.

“Some people see scars, and it is wounding they remember. To me they are proof of the fact that there is healing.”
― Linda Hogan