And it’s been a long December and there’s reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last

I have always enjoyed that song, despite not feeling any particular connection to it; December, regardless of circumstance, is a month of quiet or not-so-quiet joy and reminders of what’s important.

If there’s a long month – and there was this year - it’s January; after the decorations come down and the wrapping paper is carted away, What’s Important becomes paying the creditors – the reminders of which all seem to carry words like “overdue notice.”

January was the month when I emptied my piggy bank of its tattoo-and-language-course savings, and deposited it in the grownup bank, to pay for things like electricity.  It was the month when I transferred thousands of dollars from our ever-dwindling savings account just to cover the mortgage.  It saw my brave face, held in place for months by the sheer force of my desire to protect my already desperately-stressed husband from my own panic, finally crumble into hitching, nearly-frantic tears.

But things change, always by degrees, and February was not the same as January, and March is different yet.  In a fit of optimism I dipped into the pile of charity solicitations that have been languishing at the bottom of my bill pile for months now; What’s Important isn’t so hard to remember in March. 

Next month, we’re going to the cherry blossom festival.  It’s just a weekend away from home, but it’ll be the first vacation we’ve had in awhile, and two nights’ hotel accommodations represents a big change in the status quo.   Reason to believe, indeed.