the more things change and other thoughts on this new year’s eve


Sigh. It’s almost over, isn’t it? Please tell me we will get a do-over soon…I can’t possible drink anymore sorrow, or eat any more emotion, and goodness knows, my deep sighs are wearing out their welcome.

I need a new year. I need a change.

I understand the risk of change. I know that the more things change, well, the more things change. And it’s not always good. In fact, sometimes it sucks. Sometimes change shows up as “this wasn’t the change I imagined and I would like to trade it in now” variety.

Still. Change.

My change this year has to do with the moving parts of family. I have lived 500 miles away from my parents since I was 19, and this spring they will sell their home and move within 5 miles of me (that’s a good change, in fact, I am almost giddy for that one). My in-laws are also moving, out of the home Steve’s grandfather built in the hills of Redwood City, when his mom was ten, more than 70 years ago. It’s a very special house, and all of us will feel the loss…but we know San Diego is a lovely place to be. My daughters are still far away, and I am not sure where they will root, but I know I miss them. I try not to feel sorry for myself when my friends get to see their daughters just because. I am not always successful.

I am on the back end of my career, and working to forge a new path with this well traveled one. I want to write more, walk more, read more, travel more, photograph more, make more, cook more, explore more. I’d like to see more movies, visit with more friends, have more parties. And while we’re at it, I’d like more time.

Also, I am already missing the Obamas.

The new year always comes when we need it the most. When the Christmas tree branches are dry and brittle, when our bodies have finally demanded vegetables rather than sweets, when the nights are the darkest. When we’re tired and worn and need inspiration. When we are cranky with the universe (and baseball is still months away). When we need a refresher for life.

A new year. A new chance. And the courage to change, even with the risks.

Steve and I are headed to the coast with our dearest friends. The guys are playing golf, the women are spending the afternoon at Osmosis Spa and Sanctuary. After my massage, I am going to hang out in the hammock forest with my new Mary Oliver book of essays, Upstream. We will drink, eat, laugh, and walk on the ocean bluffs.

And then we will wake to a new year and begin again. Changing, hoping for the best. Working and reworking our moments and days and lives, until we get it right. To paraphrase (with apologies) Gandhi, may we be ready for the change we see in the world, and may we be willing to change ourselves.

Happy to you. See you next year.



Photo by Kim Tackett. Yosemite Valley, New Year’s Eve 2015.


  1. Karen Andrus

    My thanks to you, Kim, for your ever thoughtful commentary.

    I offer up my 87-year-old mother’s toast at Christmas this year: “Here’s to the New Year: may it be better than any of us expect.”

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