We all get them - the annual Christmas letters summarizing the writer's past year's highs, lows, and in-betweens. Often I read them and, I must confess, sometimes I don't. It depends in part on when I see them. If I discover them on a weeknight after I get home from work, I'm less likely to read them than if I discover them on a weekend, when I can approach everything more leisurely. If they are from my wife's friends, I'm less likely to read them than if they are from mine. If they are long with no pictures, I'm less likely to read them than if they are short with photos.
In our early days of personal computers, when our kids were babies, I'd try to use new technology to create high-tech Christmas letters of our own. Sometimes these creations came out okay, other times not so much, yet I would inflict them on people regardless. And then there was the year, in the mid-'90s, when I used new software to create multi-media letters on disks which I distributed to a select group of friends who quickly reported that the disks crashed their computers. This nightmare occasioned my brief and unsuccessful stint as a computer repairman, and cured me of any desire to sum up our year in a letter.
But this year I am trying something new - creating a post-Christmas summary-by-blog. As a public medium, blogging will deter me from including any intimate details of our lives, but still there are some events and thoughts I would like to share. I'll understand if you choose not to read any further.
The year 2015 started with great sadness, as on New Year's Day we aborted a vacation in sunny Mexico to fly to a family funeral in western Pennsylvania. After our initial grief, winter continued to be long and challenging, as it brought with it record snow and commuting hassles (can you spell "MBTA?"), and some unanticipated health issues.
But 2015 was not all bad. It included one child's college graduation, another's matriculation into an Ivy League MBA program, my long overdue return to the Catholic Church, and my renewed attempts at writing poetry. We enjoyed a beautiful summer marked by brief trips to Portland, Maine, Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket, various parts of Cape Cod, and Upstate New York. And I continued to enjoy practicing law in Boston with a great regional law firm, and serving on a few non-profit boards. We are, in the final analysis, very lucky.
2015 also was the year of Spotify and Apple Music (I discontinued the latter after the trial period), Fargo (I watched both seasons) and the Leftovers (season 2), Dylan's "Cutting Edge" and streaming Beatles, a number of good books read (I recommend "All the Light We Cannot See"), and the publication of one of my tweets in the Wall Street Journal (about not wanting to read the "new" Harper Lee book).
And finally, it was another year of watching evil spread its mischief in the world. I am still haunted by the photograph of the body of a three-year-old boy washed ashore after a failed attempt to flee the killing in Syria. The refugee crisis, the killings in Paris and San Bernardino, the reports of police shootings of unarmed black men and the angry protests in response, and the insensitivity of those who would erect fences rather than extend mercy, all have contributed to a year in which hate and madness seem to have tightened their grip on the world.
And yet I am hopeful for 2016. I am hopeful because, amid all the chaos and vitriol, there are millions of good people, of a variety of faiths, welcoming refugees, feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, healing the sick, sheltering the homeless, and standing up for peace in a world crazy with war. Their quiet voices are drowned out in the media's love affair with the shouts and screams of arrogant Presidential contenders, but rest assured that they are there, salting the earth with love and kindness. In this Year of Mercy, may we resolve to join them.
In our early days of personal computers, when our kids were babies, I'd try to use new technology to create high-tech Christmas letters of our own. Sometimes these creations came out okay, other times not so much, yet I would inflict them on people regardless. And then there was the year, in the mid-'90s, when I used new software to create multi-media letters on disks which I distributed to a select group of friends who quickly reported that the disks crashed their computers. This nightmare occasioned my brief and unsuccessful stint as a computer repairman, and cured me of any desire to sum up our year in a letter.
But this year I am trying something new - creating a post-Christmas summary-by-blog. As a public medium, blogging will deter me from including any intimate details of our lives, but still there are some events and thoughts I would like to share. I'll understand if you choose not to read any further.
The year 2015 started with great sadness, as on New Year's Day we aborted a vacation in sunny Mexico to fly to a family funeral in western Pennsylvania. After our initial grief, winter continued to be long and challenging, as it brought with it record snow and commuting hassles (can you spell "MBTA?"), and some unanticipated health issues.
But 2015 was not all bad. It included one child's college graduation, another's matriculation into an Ivy League MBA program, my long overdue return to the Catholic Church, and my renewed attempts at writing poetry. We enjoyed a beautiful summer marked by brief trips to Portland, Maine, Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket, various parts of Cape Cod, and Upstate New York. And I continued to enjoy practicing law in Boston with a great regional law firm, and serving on a few non-profit boards. We are, in the final analysis, very lucky.
2015 also was the year of Spotify and Apple Music (I discontinued the latter after the trial period), Fargo (I watched both seasons) and the Leftovers (season 2), Dylan's "Cutting Edge" and streaming Beatles, a number of good books read (I recommend "All the Light We Cannot See"), and the publication of one of my tweets in the Wall Street Journal (about not wanting to read the "new" Harper Lee book).
And finally, it was another year of watching evil spread its mischief in the world. I am still haunted by the photograph of the body of a three-year-old boy washed ashore after a failed attempt to flee the killing in Syria. The refugee crisis, the killings in Paris and San Bernardino, the reports of police shootings of unarmed black men and the angry protests in response, and the insensitivity of those who would erect fences rather than extend mercy, all have contributed to a year in which hate and madness seem to have tightened their grip on the world.
And yet I am hopeful for 2016. I am hopeful because, amid all the chaos and vitriol, there are millions of good people, of a variety of faiths, welcoming refugees, feeding the hungry, clothing the poor, healing the sick, sheltering the homeless, and standing up for peace in a world crazy with war. Their quiet voices are drowned out in the media's love affair with the shouts and screams of arrogant Presidential contenders, but rest assured that they are there, salting the earth with love and kindness. In this Year of Mercy, may we resolve to join them.
I loved the post, Don -- and I read it to the end. I appreciate your thoughtful approach to life and I wish you and your family a fulfilling year ahead. All the best, David
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