New Year

2024. Not sure how we got here. It has been six months since Eric died. CS Lewis says grief is like being concussed. True’ish, but it’s not so much that my brain is foggy or forgetful. It’s more like it has been halved. Everything I’ve done these past months seems half seen and half remembered. It’s a sort of a half presence, like being a ghost in my own life.

So new year’s resolution #1: come back to earth. Regain substance.

New Year’s usually went like this in the Zimmmarko (Zimmerman + Markowitz) household: sleep in, brew one pot of coffee and then quickly realize the need for another, eat a lucky meal of black-eyed peas and sauerkraut, watch Ohio State muck up a bowl game, and then make a list of daily resolutions. Eric’s were always the same:

KZ!!

Exercise

Write (even just a paragraph)

Play guitar

Meditate

Help the kids at school

Connect with friends

I topped the list, verb-less but with exclamation points! How great is that? That’s why I miss him. I also miss him triumphing over the daily Wordle (he used a different starter word each time, taken from the day’s headlines), watching him cook veggie stir fry in his “Mr M: Teacher” apron, yelling at him when he let the car’s gas tank hit empty so the low fuel alarm clanged (which he did all.the.time), listening to him bitch about how dumb NPR's Morning Edition theme song is, and sitting with him in his blue-and-gray flannel shirt sharing an IPA after a busy day.

I like his daily list. It’s pretty spot-on for a healthy, substantive way of being. I’ll swap “EM!!” into the number-one slot, and we’ll see what happens.

So here we are, 2024. Let’s do this.

Here’s the blue-and-gray flannel shirt and IPA, with a dorky bonus of donut ears and Jewish Christmas tree.