One morning, our helper overheard and misunderstood a conversation I had with my husband. As a result, she was cold to me the entire morning, upset with what I had shared with my husband. She thought that I was complaining about her behind her back.
I find making New Year’s resolutions a bit of a chore, mainly because my lists are predictable and I would have broken most of my good intentions by the end of January.
But the start of a new year is always good for fresh beginnings, and I’m determined that 2020 will be different!
In the past year, I’ve come to a new resolution that has been shaping the end of my 2019 and that I hope will shape my 2020: I want to reduce the amount of waste I produce.
I don’t know the exact timing, but some five years ago I began my long, draining battle with depression and anxiety disorders.
The seasons since have fluctuated in ferocity and been riddled with counselor meetings, psychiatric appointments, medications, and even suicidal urges.
In July, I received some bad news from relatives in Taiwan about my cousin. Her cancer had returned, and this time, it was terminal.
I was shocked to hear the news, since I had just recently seen her posting happy photos of her travels in Japan on social media.