Happy New Year!

Tomorrow is New Year’s Day; a day of optimism and new beginnings. My track record with New Year’s resolutions is perfect – fifty-one years and not one resolution kept. Why try again? It’s the optimism and an inherited stubbornness I’ve never been able to shake. Why fight it; embrace it.

First and foremost, I need a job. I’ve been working part-time since returning from China, but I need a full-time position. Many aspects of our lives are in limbo until we know where I’ll be working.

Next, we need a home of our own. Since returning from overseas we’ve been staying with our daughter and her family. It’s been a good situation and we are thankful, however we would like to move on before we overstay our welcome.

When I find work we’ll know where to find a home. Once we have our new home, we will know where to look for a new church. We haven’t wanted to get involved with local church, only to up-root and move on after we are settled.

Here’s the hard one; the one I deal with year after year; the one that has my resolution record perfect so far; I need to lose weight. I need to keep it off. I need to get healthy. I need to stay healthy. This is the year. I’m going full-on optimistic and having oatmeal for breakfast.

There you have it, my publicly stated New Year’s resolutions. Stay tuned and see how I do.

I Believe Too

Christmas Eve Michelle got me to do something totally out of my character. Michelle got me into a Santa suit. It was our son-in-law who was supposed to get into the suit, but ten minutes before the scheduled entrance he lost his nerve. That’s their story. I’m not sure Michelle didn’t have an ulterior motive from the start, but I was clueless. Michelle didn’t really give me a choice or any time to think about it. Before I could object the twenty-third time I was clothed in red with the itchiest fake beard known to man. Next thing I know, Michelle’s calling for the children to gather for a big surprise. At this point I’m all in; I might as well remember my lines.

“Ho Ho Ho, Merry Christmas!”

Only cousin Jen’s daughter Ella was fooled, but everyone was all smiles. Genesis, nine years old, snuggled in next to me on the sofa and whispered in my ear,

“I know it’s you, Grandpa.”

After a first round of gifts delivered by old Saint Nick, Santa quietly slipped away while the merriment continued. Later when I was sitting off to the side, MakennaLinn (six) & Gracie (seven) came up to me. They told me they knew it was me in a Santa suit. I denied it; saying I was in the bathroom and missed everything. These little detectives weren’t falling for it. They said no way, Santa was wearing my watch!

The best reaction was from little Ella. With eyes as wide as her smile, she believed.

Over the years I’ve repeatedly called myself a lucky guy. My life, complete with its ups and downs, is more than any man could ask for. Two years ago the wheels came off the cart and I’ve struggled to find an even keel ever since. I wish I could say the experience was behind me. I hope I can say the experience has built character. What I can say, with some trepidation, is that the core of who I am, although bent, is not broken. I’m still the same stubborn guy who will fight tooth and nail to stay out of a Santa suit, only to succumb to the twinkle of Mrs. Claus’ eye. I have family and health and the hope that any day now it can all turn around. Like little Ella’s wide eyes and smile, I believe too.