Finding Your Life

I so clearly remember a certain New Years Eve when I was much younger, probably around nineteen. It was close to midnight and I was at a party, feeling like I was about to burst out of my skin with unhappiness. I absolutely knew that where I was wasn't where I was supposed to be. I said my goodbyes and ran out of there, into the street, to my car, and just sat and sobbed.

I hadn't yet found my life.

Here I am, so many years later. It's 7:30, New Years Eve again. Sitting on the sofa, in my bathrobe and my reading glasses, with Kayla snoring beside me on the floor in front of the fireplace. Chloe is watching Good Luck Charlie on the ipad and Ron is upstairs with his computer. We had dinner out, and it was a little too noisy, and a little too crowded, and we waited quite a bit too long for our food.

Today, I pruned roses in the winter sun, Chloe and I took a walk to the playground and slid down the slides, I spread ten bags of bark that Ron was kind to fetch for me from Lowe's. I ate my leftover homemade garlic and potato soup with kale and goat cheese for lunch. I sipped an Island Girl martini with dinner and we toasted the New Year above the noise. The Christmas decorations are all stowed away, the mantle is clear and fresh. We are all here, safe and together.

Tonight we'll watch the ball drop, on the East Coast version, so that New Years arrives at 9:00. I'll hug my girl tight, and tuck her into bed just like any other night.

Here I sit, writing, with a small smile on my face. This life I found is the right one.