2006: Good fucking riddence

It’s been a year; 364 days of peaks and valleys.
But more valleys than peaks.
And virtually no flat-line of the mundane.
But let’s be honest here, the highs were pretty fucking high – I got assigned to cover the Olympics in Italy, I won another national award for my work and (probably the most important) I sought therapy for myself and came to some very healthy self-realizations.
(Now is not the time to lose that, amid valleys that continue to drop lower and lower in elevation.)
It’s been a year:
Where I’ve struggled to find meaning and purpose after losing my mother to cancer;
Where I was an active participant in fucking up my marriage;
Where I watched a close friend drop dead of cancer (and in one explosive argument two days after his burial, said horrible, hurtful things to my wife, then to make matters worse when she said things back to me, asked her for a divorce, even though I was drunk, hurting and didn't mean it);
Where I had to focus after my dad was run over by a car;
Where I watched him struggle with the loss of his wife and truly ask why he didn’t die;
Where I watched – and listened – as my brother and sisters struggle with horrible things in their life;
Where my wife committed adultery;
Where I filed for divorce.
It’s New Year’s Eve and early this morning my dad called to say that there is a good chance that he’ll have his foot amputated on Tuesday (the day after his 79th birthday – there’s a present).
He’s got a pressure sore that won’t heal, and a staph infection that, quite frankly, threatens his life.
It’s a very fluid situation; he’s at a great hospital, but there are as many opinions as there are surgeons. Some agree that he’d be better off with the foot; others look at the situation and don’t want to give up (even though it means a few more painful surgeries for dad – and no guarantee that he won’t lose the foot a month from now).
I told him that I was mad at God. That whatever lesson there was in all of this, our family has gone through enough bullshit this year.
“You can’t get mad at God,” he said. “We’re going to need him.”
I took a long hike to clear my head (and my heart) and while I appreciate his strength in the face of this, I’m still conflicted. I do realize that every event in your life is presented as a learning experience, if you’re good and smart enough to listen. But it’s hard to listen where there is so much beatdown – any way not enough good things.
When the balance sheet is tilting toward misery.
Life isn’t fair. I’ve heard that my entire life. I get it now.
Life is mostly several swift kicks to the nuts, with the occasional reach-around thrown in so everyone doesn’t check out.
All I can do is seek more help for myself, continue to be a better person – and be strong for the people who need me.
And I need to be strong for me, ‘cause I need me.
It isn’t always easy, it isn’t always fun, but it is life as I know it.
And I know that things will get better.
Maybe 2007 is the year.
I'm not sure it could get much worse (but, I suppose it could).