Another Year Comes to a Close, but Challenging Times Won’t End

We have reached the end of another year, and I don’t know about you, but I am exhausted.

The first half of this year was good, and I had a lot of fun. But the second half? Definitely more stressful and challenging.

I went down to Florida four times this summer to visit my folks (seven times total this year). Two of those visits were planned, but two were last-minute unplanned ones — because my father and my mother were both in the hospital at different times, and help was needed. Things got better and worse for both of my folks, relatively speaking, but by year’s end, we were grappling with the discovery that my dad has an aortic aneurysm — in addition to his worsening Parkinson’s disease and other issues. Between that and my mother’s Myelodysplastic syndrome, there’s always something to worry about.

In early August, in between two of those Florida visits and after more than three years, I finally tested positive for Covid. Thankfully, it was a mild-ish case (thank you, vaccine!), but still.

That was on top of bruising my tailbone again in July (second time since 2019), which made sitting uncomfortable for a number of months.

My niece and one of my nephews were both diagnosed with their own medical conditions this fall, and those have been a source of concern.

And then there’s everything going on in Israel and with the Jewish people here in the United States and around the world. For the last 12 weeks, for 84 days, I’ve been unable to look away from news reports on TV and posts on social media. Every single day, it seems, there’s some new development here or abroad, whether it’s people loudly and disruptively protesting against Israel and/or the Jewish people in the streets or on highways or at train stations or shopping malls or on college campuses; people chanting incendiary and hateful slogans; people threatening synagogues and Jewish day schools and Jewish-owned businesses; people ignoring facts; “journalists” promoting biased narratives; supposedly helpful organizations doing nothing; and more people dying. I spent days in late November in front of the TV waiting for hostages to come home, and have been broken-hearted by the experiences those people and their families have shared — and the fact that there are nearly 130 hostages still in captivity. Equally significant, I’ve been disappointed, frustrated, angry, and hurt by the silence from so many friends and public figures (Jews and non-Jews) while all this is going on. The events of October 7 and everything that’s happened since have changed me fundamentally and altered my perspective on many things and many people whose support and friendship I counted on. I won’t forget it.

Less personal, but still impactful, was the loss of notable people I liked: Matthew Perry, Jimmy Buffett, Tim Wakefield, Tony Bennett, Paul Reubens, Norman Lear, Andre Braugher, Bob Barker, Sixto Rodriguez, and my college professor Jerry Cohen, to name just a few —  after losing folks like Burt Bacharach and Tina Turner in the first half of the year.

Suffice it to say, these last six months have been a lot.

And yet, as the calendar turns to a new year, it doesn’t feel like the end of one thing and the beginning of another. Sure, the year ahead promises good times and exciting milestones — among them, my nephews’ b’nai mitzvah and my 50th birthday — but unfortunately, I know many of those challenges I’ve (we’ve) been dealing with in 2023 will continue into 2024. It’s not like my folks are going to magically become healthy or the hostages are going to come home and the war is going to end just because it’s January 1.

But I’m reminded of the words of John Podhoretz, who wrote in October of the Jewish people: “This is the glory and burden of our people. We must celebrate even in the midst of horror and tragedy.” He was sharing part of a speech he gave at his son’s bar mitzvah, and providing a reminder that even in the worst of times, we are commanded to laugh. 

“These have been among the worst weeks of my life, of all of our lives,” Podhoretz wrote. “But we cannot allow the evildoers to rob us of the glories of this earth, its beauties, its bounties, its joys.”

He’s right.

And so, with that in mind, before we end 2023, I want to pause here and celebrate the joy these last six months brought me. Even in the midst of health challenges and tragedy, while others were calling for the death of people just like me and others were remaining silent, I was doing what I could to enjoy my life. 

For example, in the second half of 2023, I saw Bruce Springsteen, the Lone Bellow, and Alex Edelman perform live for the second and third time this year; John Oliver, too, though I only saw him once. I traveled back to Chicago — Michigan City, too — and also visited the Planet of the Bass (a few too many times). I went to multiple Red Sox games. I celebrated with family at a bat mitzvah. I went to the movies a lot. I got a new car and a new couch, and finally had some work done on my condo. I saw Blue Man Group for the first time. I fit in a quick trip to New York City after Christmas to see a show. 

And, when other people abandoned me, I was reminded of who my people really are. 

As we change the calendar and begin a new year, I’m going to take comfort in memories of these good times. I’m hopeful that, no matter what challenges 2024 has in store, there will be some joy mixed in, too.

Happy New Year.

(Top photo credit: Mason Wildfang)