A Year in My Life

On January 30, 2008, my amazing, loving wife gave birth to a gorgeous baby girl. Well, actually it was an emergency C-section. But that was by far the most stunning event in my life for 2008.

Last night I caught part of Woody Allen's Stardust Memories and I think he hit on something profound in that movie (as he always seems to do) and that is that when we look back on our lives from a vantage point of many decades past our youth we see not a "life" but a series of episodes, or vignettes, some delightful, others absolutely horrifying. Philip Roth has been hitting on that theme lately in his recent works. We're all heading in the same direction ultimately, everybody, call it "death on the installment plan" as Celine did, the gardener, the bus driver, the president, the celebrity all become stardust at some point.

My younger brother was married in September 2007 after living together for many years with his life partner. On May 8, 2008, she died of an overdose of prescription drugs at the age of 47. That day my brother had to go to a middle school and tell her 13-year-old son, my brother's stepson, that his mother was dead.

In 2008, I published a book that I had worked on for two years and signed a contract to write another one. My peers in academia granted me tenure. I had a baby who I love so much it actually causes pain inside my chest at times.

The day after Christmas two acquaintances, an older couple, my wife's colleagues, were killed in a car accident on their way to Reno on Highway 80.

In 2008, I spent my first Christmas in my life in a place other than my childhood home in San Jose, California. I was in Lander, Wyoming. It was snowy and crisp and beautiful. My daughter met for the first time aunts and uncles and cousins. It was cold, maybe 12 degrees. My right-wing Christian fundamentalist brother-in-law lent me his jeep. I drove it into the rugged mountains nearby and a lovely young deer, a buck with little horns, jumped in front of the vehicle. He was furry and white and gray and brown and cute. I laughed as he bounded in front of me and I thought about what an amazing gift that was -- here I was transported from Sacramento to the middle of Wyoming in the mountain snow in a jeep and seeing wildlife before my eyes. An episode, a vignette.

Tonight, New Years Eve, I'm meeting up with my brother and an old friend who is visiting from Europe. He brought with him his new Russian girlfriend. She plays concert violin. I haven't seen him in a while. He's my oldest and dearest friend. We were thrown out of high school together.

New years are normally marked by momentous historical events or deaths of artists and celebrities or other important people, but at some level it is a deeply personal demarcation. What happened in your life in 2008? That is all that really matters when you think about it.

Comments

[Joseph A. Palermo - Huffpost Blogger]

Thank you for the comments -- Happy New Year all of you!

[stevebehindthechapel]

Life is beautiful, Joseph. And short. Thank you for the reminder. My deep appreciation and congratulations goes out to you and yours, and Bri. Blessings and peace. ~s

[MX]

Happy New Year Joseph. Sounds like you had an incredibly emotional 2008. Congratulations on the new baby and also on being granted tenure!

P.S will you be doing a piece about he great, and now sadly late, Harold Pinter? I hope so.

[DLSprague]

Too much for one year, that's for sure. Enough for a novel, but I think it will take me at least a couple of years to transcribe and interpret it. Happy New Year!