• Dan and Anya on New Years Eve.
    Essay

    to be or not to be

    I’m sitting at our kitchen table, our Christmas tree still glowing behind me. We keep the Christmas tidings rolling past December 25 in this household. It’s the New Year: 2017. We made it. I get the sense that we collectively stopped holding our breaths when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve. And then maybe collected a whole new deep breath into our lungs. There are many mysteries ahead for this year, but it feels momentous to have finally turned the calendar forward from 2016. As my grandfather said, “It’s time to stop staring down our noses at it and face it head on.” I’ve never much been one for New Year’s…