Looking out my Backdoor: Good-bye, the old year - Hello, the new year

And so it goes. We folks with more miles on the chassis put away the old calendar and open the new calendar, 12 blank pages of promise, blank pages of mystery, of wonder whether we will make it through next December. That sounds grim but said above, we older folks.

I’m not sure how the younger people measure time. Maybe by that big thing similar to a watch on their wrist — that device that does everything for them. Someone told me it even tells them to “quit slouching.” Sounds like a stand-in for Mom.

Back to we older ones. In looking through 2022, not the easiest year in which to live, my friends and I pretty much agree that we’ve garnered some good from our experiences.

We’ve come to appreciate each day more, especially as we see friends, acquaintances, family succumb to various diseases. When I wake in the morning, I say, “OK, alive another day. Come, Lola, let’s go for a walk. Holy Smokies, my girl, would you look at that sunrise.”

We’ve, this is me and my friends; we agreed that we are more aware of what we need. We’ve separated needs from wants and discovered the pile of needs keeps shrinking as we realize our values keep changing. Do I really need that? Or is it a want? We are not so much on-the-go. We are more content with the “here” and “now.”

Solitude has given us an appreciation for small things we used to not notice or to take for granted. Quiet. Beauty of a blade of grass. Or the wonder of a rain drop. Solitude has given us more tolerance, more acceptance of each other. Of ourselves, with all our foibles.

We see that conversations are more intimate when we meet in twos or threes rather than in party convocations of friends in which most talk tended to be superficial. We make more eye contact. We smile more.

This is list making. I could continue making lists all day.

What I am really looking forward to and hoping I get to watch and experience, is to see our young people take over and put their skills to cleaning up the messes we’ve made and to making our world a better place for all peoples. I think they can. I think they will.

I’m rather ashamed to leave them our legacy — The Good Lord by whatever Title knows we’ve bungled nearly everything we’ve touched into a right tangle of knots.

I haven’t lost the plot yet. I remember when we were young and we were going to fix it, to make our world a better place. When we were young and knew so much.

Somewhere along the path we tripped and fell or got lost or quit or gave up or got quiet or, or, or … yeah, another list.

What I see in our youth today are people who are smarter, more aware, more astute, more able to cut through the mud than we were. They are; they are smarter. They have more tools. They see more clearly, maybe a bit more cynically, but who is to say that is not better.

Yes, I am talking about the same young people you are. They might have purple hair, multiple piercings, colorful body art, wear outlandish costumes. We did similarly.

We may think they aren’t paying attention, but they are. They don’t miss much.

They will make mistakes. We did. But I believe they will admit their mistakes and carry on. They know who they are. As I see it, they have more courage than we had. That’s a big advantage. That’s just how I see our youth. I think they have a chance to right some of our wrongs.

I hope we can graciously hand them the world, that we can say, “We were wrong. We didn’t know. We are sorry. We need your help.”

Let’s give them all the help and encouragement and splints and bandaids for healing that we can. It is a good time to make the transition. Happy New Year.

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Sondra Ashton grew up in Harlem but spent most of her adult life out of state. She returned to see the Hi-Line with a perspective of delight. After several years back in Harlem, Ashton is seeking new experiences in Etzatlan, Mexico. Once a Montanan, always. Read Ashton’s essays and other work at http://montanatumbleweed.blogspot.com/. Email [email protected].