Looking up as the New Year arrives (1-9-26)

Part 1 of 2.

“Goodbye stranger. It’s been nice. Hope you find your paradise.”— “Goodbye Stranger,” Supertramp

Sometimes we see what we want in the clouds. Other times, what we see is exceedingly clear. Such was the case, at least for me, on the first day of this new year.

Sitting on my balcony after a call with a friend, a patch of wispy clouds against a crystal-blue late-afternoon sky caught my attention.

And then I saw the D. For Dorinda.

The new year carries with it the realization that I enter it without Dorinda — my Bear. We would have celebrated our 40th wedding anniversary in 2026. We were going to move to the beach together, something we had worked years toward. We had talked about a trip to Italy for our 40th. The cancer said no. She died April 25.

That made the first day of this new year difficult, as so many of them are now. Seeing that D made me smile. A few minutes later, the cloud had moved on, as in the Supertramp song referenced above. But a spectacular sunset closed out the day. I didn’t have to take the short drive to the beach for this one. This time, it was brought to me.

My first column of 2026 was always going to be about saying thank you. Let’s go there, then we’ll fly back to the clouds.

There have been some special people who have helped me navigate life alone these past eight months or so. Bronchitis had kept me indoors the final few days of my nightmare that was 2025. That made for an even lonelier week. So, calls and messages from friends and family were especially appreciated.

There was my friend who I had talked with before I stepped outside to see those clouds. We shared some laughs. And tears. She reminded me once that clouds are important, too: I had been disappointed one morning in trying to capture a sunrise image as gray skies hovered about the Gulf State Park Pier and hid the sun. But then, she said, the clouds disappear and we try to move ever upward: Excelsior.

There was my friend who called me a couple times New Year’s Eve. We talked at length each time — about music and baseball. Football. Days gone by. Life. I think he called because he didn’t want me to be alone.

Looking back at what was a hard month — our 39th anniversary would have been Dec. 20 — I had more help getting through a long December.

Before I reflect on the final 31 days of 2025, a special thank you to the staff at Baldwin Health Primary and Urgent Care in Gulf Shores. When the bronchitis punched me hard the weekend after Christmas, the folks there took care of me — from the time I walked in to the time I left. Thank you to our health care providers and pharmacy workers.

Some more thanks are due.

My son watched out for me at a Christmas program I attended in early December to see my grandchildren sing. He made sure I didn’t fall, helped me get seated with my food and then got my car for me on a biting cold night. I would later spend Christmas night together with his family. We even ventured to a Waffle House. Thank you to food service workers everywhere.

My daughter arranged a trip to the Smoky Mountains to get me out of town the week of our anniversary. A mountain sunrise. The trip was wonderful and poignant — it’s where Dorinda and I spent our honeymoon.

My daughter-in-law asked me about any special traditions Dorinda had around Christmas, wanting to keep them going for our grandchildren. My son-in-law carefully put together a battery-powered four-wheeler, piece by piece, to surprise my grandson on Christmas morning. Things like that made Christmas easier, even though I was without Dorinda.

There were others who pushed me forward through the month, whether it was a couple of lunches with cousins or coffee with a friend. There was my friend who grilled for us in Birmingham on Christmas Day when I stopped by, heading back to Gulf Shores from North Alabama. There were the friends who helped me on the hard days, letting me know it was OK to grieve. They knew because they had been there. Or maybe it was an online message or comment sent with care.

To each and all, I say thank you.

And there were the aforementioned clouds to welcome in 2026.

When my children were young, we would sit on our porch swing and look for shapes in the sky. I imagine those days when we would say we saw the shape of a puppy dog, maybe a clown or whatever else we envisioned.

But I believe the Jan. 1 “D” wasn’t just my imagination. It was a gift from Dorinda, to let me know I wasn’t alone this particular day — this year — showing me the light.

Thank you, my Bear.

Excelsior!

Next week: It paid to wait.

Clouds over Gulf Shores on Jan. 1.

A sunset closes out New Year’s Day, Jan. 1, in Gulf Shores.

Jan. 1, 2021: Celebrating New Year's Day with Dorinda.