It’s a natural reaction for all people to sit back and “reflect” when something ends. I do this most often when a movie I am keenly interested in reaches the end credits. If it was a good movie, that reflection carries on for hours, even days, as I think about how I felt and what I learned. People call this reflection a form of “catharsis”, or a release of emotions, leaving one feeling both fulfilled and a little bit empty. I love the feeling of catharsis, as do most people, for it gives us a moment to feel deeply and appreciate our human experience at its deepest and most base level.
The most popular moment of reflection in media and casual conversation is that of the New Year. There is no more common time to recommit and look forward with hope than on December 31. I found myself doing this as 2020 ended. I am sure this New Year’s, perhaps more than any New Year’s in most people’s memory, contained more reflection and more longing. Rather than setting New Year’s resolutions as midnight struck, I felt almost overcome with emotion in reflecting on all that this year had done for me.
When 2020 began, I hadn’t even started college yet! I looked eagerly to beginning at BYU just days into the year.
I spent two great months in Provo delving into single college life – hanging out with friends, doing ballroom dance, playing frisbee, playing drums, dating (or trying to at least).
I faced a dilemma as a pandemic fast approached the country: should I stay in Provo or go and quarantine with my family? I decided that family was the best option, so I packed up my single college life and moved home.
I grew out a beard for the first time in my life. That in itself is a significant event of 2020.
I struggled with adjusting to online school but was relieved when it wasn’t as bad as people said it was.
I picked up a job at a place I never thought I’d work at – Pizza Pie Café. I did it mostly to give me something to do, and my friend Derek worked there so that was fun.
Then, a friend of mine from high school knocked at my door with cookies. We began talking about the frustrations of dating and we agreed to set each other up on a blind date. She knew of a certain mission companion that she thought I’d get along with….
This girl intrigued me. We hit it off right away, and I kept asking her to just be my girlfriend already, but she waited and waited… I told her I loved her and she didn’t say it back… Until finally, she said it back (phew...) and it was smooth sailing from there!
Meghan and I had a glorious courtship through the summer, complete with lots of kayaking and pickleball and Mario Kart and boating and all manner of fun things. We navigated the pandemic together and made the most of what we had been given, despite the unusual position of the world.
As summer ended, we both knew that “Meghan and Adam” is how life would be. I took all of my money I earned at Pizza Pie Café and bought her a splendid ring. I proposed on August 21 in her grandparents’ backyard, a very significant place in her life. She said yes (thank goodness) and we set a date for December.
After all that excitement, school started again in September, and we parted ways, Meghan going to USU and me going down to BYU. We’d video chat daily (one time we were on the phone for 8 hours straight) and finished our homework as quickly as we could. Then, we would drive to either Salt Lake or Layton or Logan or Provo or even Cedar City to meet up and spend the weekend together.
About 14 weekends later, school went completely online, and we returned to our families to finish up the last couple of weeks. Amidst studying for finals, we finalized wedding plans, and prepared diligently for our lives together.
December 18 finally came. We were sealed in the Ogden Temple. Despite being unable to celebrate with a traditional wedding, we were overjoyed to finally be together, and celebrating with family was enough for us. That became the best day of my life.
That brings me to December 31, when I stood in the lawn at Meghan’s family’s house in Salt Lake, making noise as midnight struck and the year ended. All of these events seemed to flash before my eyes. This year changed me significantly. The events that happened over these last 12 months were monumental. It seemed that every month brought a new challenge, but with those challenges came unique growth not achievable in any other way. I am forever grateful for what this year did for me.
The gospel of Jesus Christ, accompanied by time spent living it, acts as a strainer in our lives. If we live with hope and faith in Christ, eventually, the bad moments in our lives, all the negative emotions and negative events, will be drained out, leaving behind the positive things from life. However, as with soup, we cannot drain out ALL of the broth. What negative things remain only serve to give us gratitude for the positive contents inside.
I wonder if this is how people feel on their deathbed?
And I wonder if this is how we can feel always? I don’t know. All I know is that I felt something like this on New Years Eve. I did not think about the pandemic. I did not think about political turmoil or natural disasters. All I thought about was my wonderful wife, my wonderful family, and how strong I’ve become.
It was catharsis. It was a wonderful and fulfilling way to feel. I hope I feel like that every year.
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