As December draws to a close, I sit in our new San Pedro apartment, surrounded by half-unpacked boxes and memories. Profound loss and unexpected opportunities have defined this year.
The hardest part of 2024, without question, was saying goodbye to loved ones. For my husband, losing his mother and friend has been devastating. There are days when his grief arises. He used to call her nearly every day to share the latest in his life and to hear advice. He also lost a beloved aunt (one of his mother’s siblings). I lost my father after a long battle with prostate cancer. Before we moved from Long Beach, I kept his obituary on my desk. From time to time, I’d start my day with a one-sided conversation. I’m certain Dad heard me.
The entertainment industry’s ongoing struggles have touched many lives, including ours. My husband has watched friends and colleagues continue to struggle. Everyone is navigating uncertain waters, temporarily shelving talent as the industry works to find its footing. Supposedly, things will start returning to normal next year. Only time will tell.
With all the turmoil on our plate, I didn’t release any books this year. It wasn’t because I had nothing to publish. I simply didn’t want to use a tired launch plan that wasn’t working. To do something different that might bring better results, required money. Something we didn’t have for most of the year. Try living off of one person’s part-time income—not easy.
Yet amidst these challenges, new doors have opened. My role as a customer service representative at a veterinary hospital has been fun. Each day, I get to meet new people and pets. Sometimes, the experience is just a business transaction. Other times, I get caught up in the moment. Working at South Shores brings back memories of our three Samoyeds—Ivory, Kasha, and Blossom. I miss them, and wish to get a Sammy pup. I also want a kitten, but what do I get? A Maine Coon or a Siberian?
Perhaps the most surprising turn has been my venture into food writing with Foodie.com. What began as a way to merge my passion for writing with my love of cuisine has blossomed into a promising freelance career. Each article I write feels like a minor victory, a step toward rebuilding my professional identity on my own terms.
Finally, leaving Long Beach for San Pedro reminds me how life’s endings can also be about the beginning. The circumstances causing the move created a lot of stress for my family. Yet, the move is an opportunity to create a new home, to write the next chapter in a story that continues to unfold in unexpected ways.
Looking back at 2024, I’m reminded of the saying: “Life doesn’t always give you what you want, but it often gives you what you need.” As I juggle customer service shifts with writing deadlines, and continue to navigate grief’s unpredictable terrain, I’m understanding what that means.
The year ahead remains unwritten, but I carry with me the lessons of 2024: that loss and opportunity often walk hand in hand, that new beginnings can arise from painful endings, and that sometimes the most meaningful growth happens in the spaces between where we’ve been and where we’re going.
I don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to the next chapter…
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