Retrospect on Resolutions

Graphic by Pat

I’m not one to make resolutions for a new year, or even a new century, and I’m not sure why—perhaps because I tend to go up the down staircase. At any rate, I resolve at different times during any given year to make changes in my lifestyle. A few of these resolutions have taken hold as permanent fixtures in my life; some I manage for a few months and then discard (often to be resurrected at a later date); a very few I ponder but know myself well enough to understand that although my heart is in the right place, my resolve is very weak and the change will not come to pass.

I’ve had this column for almost two years and my first offering was Today is Here, Tomorrow Never. It advised us in our golden years to Seize the day, put no trust in the morrow. That’s not easy to do because we were reared by plan-ahead parents influenced by the Great Depression. I’m proud to say that I’ve made real strides toward that lifestyle: I smell more roses, devote some days to helping others and spend more time with my grandchildren.

In November 1999 I spoke of giving thanks and showing gratitude for all we have by helping those less fortunate with monetary contributions as well as time and talents. This is a resolution I made years ago, probably as a result of hearing my mother often say, “We reap what we sow.” I’ve managed to maintain that resolve through the many highs and lows of my life. Even in my worst times I tried to remember, I thought my life was bleak because I had no shoes, and then I met a man who had no feet.

Making a difference in what we do day-to-day is the best resolution we can make. Random acts of kindness can easily become a way of life. Let me relate a recent real-life story to illustrate the philosophy of random acts:

A friend borrowed a pen from her Waffle House waiter to write a shopping list. He asked if it was a Christmas list and she said, no, it was a grocery list. With a teasing but slightly wistful tone he replied, “You ought to make part of it a Christmas list.”

My friend fell into the game and asked, “Okay, what do you want for Christmas?”

“A CD.”

“Which one?”