Twenty eighteen is here, whew! I’ve never been so ready for a new year in my life, y’all. Last year was definitely a step in the right direction for me, but I wish I could’ve done so much more. I moved back home to Atlanta (!!!), I bought my second car with no help from anyone (*curtsies*), and I learned how to curve my spending habits. There were some bumps in the road though, some that I’m still recovering from (I had two miscarriages back to back this Fall, and they were devastating). But, with the love and support of my family and friends, I’m getting through it all.
One of those aforementioned bumps ended up being a bad oil change that led to my engine locking up, so right now I’m working on the repairs for that ($3k bruh). This wrench thrown in my plans led me to spend New Year’s Eve with my family instead of my beloved boyfriend (hi baby!). I ended up having a really great time though, we drank and played cutthroat Uno (I was giving my parents that WERK!). It was nice because we hadn’t really been getting along too well, but apparently trying to cut each other off at the knees in a card game is pretty good therapy. Who knew?
I went into this year with all these plans on how I was going to conquer every feat I came up against. I was going to budget, save money, start my business, grow my blog, and become more consistent in the efforts I was giving in everything. My boyfriend and I were going to fix our credit, we were going to achieve financial freedom, start exercising, eat healthier and travel. This year was going to be so amazing, and I was so excited. Then Tuesday night I got a call from my grandma that my Papa had died.
It didn’t feel real. Not when I told my boss and let her know I had to fly to Chicago, not when I got to my grandparent’s house, not even when I saw him laying in the casket at the viewing. It’s just now starting to set in and it hurts so bad. My Papa was my greatest cheerleader, he was my Super Man, the source of my rottenness (he spoiled me sooo good) and now he’s gone. He lived a very fruitful life: he worked for the United States Postal Service for 29 years and rose through the ranks, had three sons, six grandchildren, four great grandchildren, and a host of people who loved him dearly. He was big on exercising and eating healthy(which kinda baffled me on how we’re related because I’m so bad at both of those), he always encouraged me to keep God first and tithe, was hilarious, and incredibly charming. He was the greatest man I know (my daddy being a close second).
The first week of the New Year is supposed to set the tone of the rest of the year, and the start of mine really sucked. I could sit here and be depressed and let my goals waste away, but my Papa’s memory won’t let me have it. He wanted the world for me, for all of us, and to not continue to go after my goals would be an insult of the highest degree. I read a post on Blushing Black where LaTisha decided to focus on creating a vision for her future instead of making resolutions, and she picked a word that allowed her to focus on that for the current year. I think that’s an amazing idea, and it gave me a chance to really reflect on my own vision.
My word for 2018 is Flourish.
This is what my grandpa wanted for me, and it’s what I want for myself. I have a lot of goals for this year, and tons to accomplish. But, to me, that just means I should plan for a lot of champagne showers because I’m knocking each one of them thangs out the park!