Of Gypsies and Cowboys

2009 has one hour left. The New Year is breathing at the door; eager for entrance. Never before have I been so ready for one year to end and the other to begin. Bring it! Come on! Show me your best, your worst, your sickening middle lands! There is nothing I cannot take, nothing I haven’t seen. I am bold and terrified and older and more foolish, so bring to me now and let me stand!
This past year saw the best and worst of all I am. We walked through job loss and business creation, marriage joys and desolation, the celebration and loss of two babies, nights in five gypsy homes. I have witnessed my husband laugh with joy, curse with anger, weep with despair. I have heard my heart bargain with God upon blood spots and wedding vows and false opinions. As a couple we have been entirely misunderstood by family, employers, and friends. We have been berated, ridiculed, chastised, and abandoned. By strangers have we been embraced. Feasting and fasting have brought aches to our body, while moonlight and solitiude have gifted us with clarity. We have literally, spiritually, and personally lost much of what we have held so dear. In the same ways we have gained more than we can hope or imagine.
We have become everything we hate and have witnessed much of what we hope for.
We have become utterly lost and experienced the desperate need to be utterly found.
2009 has left us shattered and better people. I look at these past months with loathing and wonder.
I would never do it again.
I would never wish it taken from me.

This year has shown me my utter depravity as well as my consuming hope for a better life; a life of rest and peace and joy, a life worth living upon this earth, a life worth hoping for in the midst of days.

Farwell 2009, damned and blessed. I will forever remember your roads and never long for them again. Farewell, and be blessed.