2013

I was in bed at 10:20pm last evening. The sounds of parties nearby — the bass, the yelling, the occasional air horn — were drowned out by my white noise generator and the earplugs I wear nightly. Before I fell asleep completely, the toothless stray cat curled-up on my torso, as she always does. It served as a reminder of our previous New Year’s Eve; the culmination of weeks spent coaxing the now-Sophia into our hallway, feeding her, and finally dropping her off at the vet for examination. And now she’s just such an integral component of our life; one we can’t imagine our home without.

Katie gave me a gentle prod in the arm at about 2am. “Do you still want to get up and carry Naomi around for a bit?” I strapped on the baby carrier and put our two week-old daughter in. By now, the house was completely black and mostly silent; the mood was perfect. Out back, the sounds of partying were still audible, so I turned on one of the many ambient drone records I’ve been routinely allowing to grace the background, listening to my daughter’s rhythmic breathing, Sophia having now joined me to look out the back windows into the yard.

I just took it all in. Everything previous feels a prologue, an extended warm-up of the orchestra. To start this year at such a high, full of such immense love and awe of the beauty of existence, gives me a great deal of hope for 2013. 

Happy New Year, friends.