This January 2021 has been one of upheaval and fear, and optimistically, renewal and healing.
For much of my personal life, January was a month of traumatizing loss and transcendent celebration.
My mother died January 27 at age 32, a day that shattered my cheerful, innocent six-year-old life. “Mommy” “mama” “ma,” – words I could no longer say or experience, representing intimacy and belonging. Words only mentioned in the letters I wrote to her in my childhood diary, and later in my journal, writing to Dear Eva, her first name. Always struggling for answers, understanding, acceptance.
My father’s birthday was January 6, sadly now an infamous day in this country. Upon returning to live with my father after surviving life in an orphanage for many years, we again celebrated his birthday. Later in life I called him every birthday but didn’t have the soulful voice to sing him happy birthday the way he did to me every year.
He was a cab driver, always working on New Year’s. Was he safe? He said not to worry; there was laughter and celebration in his cab, young people hobnobbing around NYC. Good tips. But I did worry, even though I had been hobnobbing at New Year’s parties. If I arrived home before him, I didn’t sleep until I heard his key in the door. When he lived with me before his death, I didn’t sleep until I heard his snoring or steady breathing.
New Year’s Eve 1986, a new, alluring beginning on the dance floor with Nancy, surprisingly, nervously, stirring dormant feelings. The relationship lasted a euphoric year, until her car accident in January 1987. For eight years January turned dark like the Arctic Circle, forcing me to focus inwardly on the gravity of loss, love and spirit, culminating in writing Everything Special, Living Joy.
New Year’s Eve 1995, another remarkable January. I rediscovered passion, love, a gift from soul. Delectable dancing, laughing, talking; days of revelry turning into a long, abundant, and absorbing life. My disheartening perception of January shifted to gratitude. The cloak of January angst was lifted. This January Bernice and I celebrated 26 years joined in all the richness and heartache of life.
January finally represented life and birth and death and all that is human. All the sadness and passion and exhilaration of living fully, allowing love fully, grieving fully, trusting in the next step – a season of life all rolled into one erratic month.
For this January, and future Januarys, I wish you a hopeful, healthy and peaceful year, believing your life has meaning.
2021 © Roberta S. Kuriloff
A wonderful and inspirational blog my friend. You are a beautiful writer and your words are perfect. Happy New Year. Miss you but will email soon. Life just gets in the way … way too often. Love, Laura
Thanks Laura. Miss you too! Yes, let’s reconnect and shares life’s updates.
Stay safe and well. Love, Roberta
I’m glad that your January’s now bring you happiness and love to warm your heart and soul. It’s a cold month. We need all the warmth life has to offer us.
Congratulations on your and Bernice’s 26 years together. You are both so fortunate and blessed to have found one another.
Thank you Adrienne for your supportive words. Yes, I feel blessed.
Stay safe and well, My best, Roberta
Beautifully written. So happy you and Bernice found each other. Many more wonderful January’s like this one
Stay well and safe ladies. Love you.
Thank you anonymous. I appreciate your response.
Congratulations and Happy Anniversary! You, Roberta are a very strong woman. You and Bernice are so very fortunate to have found each other. Although I believe there are no accidental meetings just predestine ones. So happy for both of you!
I always enjoy what ever you write!
Thank you so much Merlene. I so appreciate your caring and supportive words. I agree, life is more than accidents.
Hugs and well wishes from more than six-feet away, Roberta
Your words touched my soul. You and Bernice together make the sun shine on a dark day. Miss and love you both!❤️❤️
Thanks Judi for your poetic words. Miss you too.
A beautiful blog with a happy ending. I am fortunate that you came into my life in one of my dark times.
Thank you Susan. I’m glad I could be there for you, and please know it went both ways.
Merlene always shares your blog.I truly enjoy it. Not much one for writing,but for some odd reason this one sort of hit home and I felt compelled to comment. I saw a quote one time that said “ life is a song and you get to make up the melody” keep singing your song because we don’t know whose life we will touch.
Thank you Marg for taking the time to share your thoughts and support. I love the quote. I’ll save it on the inside cover of my journal, so I can see it as a reminder every morning when I write. Love and hugs, Roberta
Thanks for writing this beautiful essay that allows me to learn more about your life.
Thanks Nina. I’m at that point in my life where I’m open to sharing the ups and downs of my growth, maybe thereby also supporting others.