We are wrapping up the year. Wrapping it with bows and ribbons, and placing it under the tree and letting it get coated with pine needles.

And we are unwrapping. We are unwrapping the new year. Unwrapping hopes and intentions.

You never start something new with a premonition of the grief that will come. Only hopes for what will be. Maybe some fears. But you just can’t predict the things that will weigh heavy in your heart. Heavy with sadness and loss.

It feels so good to wrap up projects. Finish them. Send them off. Buh-bye. Launch them on their way.

And you.

Uncertain, with a very slow shake of the head, as the words come out in casual clack-clacks on your keyboard.