Wishing all my friends here a peaceful year, healthy, full of things and places you love. Be good to yourselves!

Yes, fuck 2022.

2020,2021,2022, each worse than the last. I hope 2023 gets somewhat better.

Good things to you all.

Since it's not even an even number year; the odds are in our favor.

(Lame try at math joke)

And, gourds, yes, please let's have a good year in 2023.

Tell me about it. 2022 was not fun.

Ok, fuck 2023 too. My close friend died of cancer at 3 a.m. on January 1, and I’ve been dealing with the practical aggravations ever since (she was a hoarder, among other things).

So sorry for your loss, Melismata.

I am so sorry, Melismata.

I'm afraid to hope or plan for anything, given the last few years. Two plus years of covid quarantine, bookended by my mom's death before and my brother Bob's death after, not to mention nearly losing Jon. Then again, we're here. Physically and emotionally still recovering, but we're here. Take it day by day.

At this stage, I kind of feel like this is just what life is now. We've used up all the good bits and now we just have to endure the rest.

My mother passed away just before Christmas - not at all unexpected, but nothing prepares you for that moment theory becomes reality. I've never had to organise a funeral before and, even though Mum had left lots of instructions, it's a tough thing to do. She'd even left money aside to pay for the funeral, but obviously had no idea how much an actual burial (her request) costs - around $20k more than cremation, so we had to overrule her wishes as nobody in the family has $20k to spare. Like Melismata, dealing with practical consequences like what the fuck to do with all the crap she kept forever, a lot of which was my grandfather's crap that she couldn't bear to get rid of. I've been paying to keep all this stuff in storage for the past couple of years since she moved into an aged care home as she made us promise not to get rid of it. My sister and I went through it all (having to empty every single box because so many had precious things mixed in with junk) and ended up throwing most out or donating.

Mum had specified in her funeral plan that I was to deliver a eulogy, which was incredibly tough to do, but I learned a few things about Mum researching. One of the things I learned was exactly where my parents met and when (December 1959, at the tennis courts in the Royal New Zealand Air Force base at Laucala Bay, Suva, Fiji). In that weird way life throws things at you, I was able to visit that spot along with the RNZAF memorial nearby just a few weeks later, when traveling for work. A very emotional moment, which was unexpected as I didn't even know the memorial existed until about 30 minutes before I visited it.