I made a wish on 11/11/11 — at 11:11 p.m., as it turns out. I missed the first 11:11 in the morning, but managed to catch it the second time around.
The legend is that the number 11 is lucky, so this November the 11th had people closing their eyes and wishing their hardest for that oh-so-elusive dream. I’m not going to disclose what I wished for. That’s the rule, you know. But what a strange year 2011 has been for me.
Getting out of 2010
By the end of the year, 2010 had become quite a drag for me and my loved ones. We were deprived of the time that we needed to be the best versions of ourselves, and our energy was zapped. I was working a dead-end job with little to show for it, and the stress of working nearly every single holiday was beginning to eat away at my enthusiasm.
As the year came to a long-awaited close, my boyfriend and I decided that 2011 was going to be our year. We became so set on turning our lives around that we toasted to it on New Year’s Day, even after all the excitement from New Year’s Eve had settled and faded into the past.
And 2011 did get off to a beautiful start. We secured stable jobs in our field in the Twin Cities metro, we both took a raise, my boyfriend embarked on his newfound dream by going back to school for another degree, and we began to look at expanding our living space to two bedrooms.
A turn for the worse
All of the excitement came to a screeching halt on April 24, 2011. On that fateful day, which also happened to be Easter Sunday, I received a call saying that four members of my immediate family had died in a car crash, including my parents and my 13-year-old twin brothers.
As of November 24, 2011, which also happens to be Thanksgiving Day, I will hit the seven month anniversary of that tragic event. It’s usually a day to be thankful, a day to celebrate all the good in our lives, and a day to be with our families.
Though I will be with some extended family on that day, I will not be with my two surviving siblings or any of my parents’ brothers and sisters. It will be difficult not to think instead of the family that I lost when a 76-year-old driver ran a red light seven months ago. It will be difficult to focus on the positive side and to count the things I am thankful for. And though I will not be with my family members who are hurting the most, I will do my best to be part of the celebration.
One thing is for certain: My life will never be the same.
I am still holding out hope for my wish to come true.
Even through all the grief and pain that I have experienced over the last seven months, there have been moments of beauty, moments of passion, and moments of true, unfaltering love.
So, let me end on a positive note. Let me end this excruciatingly long blog post by saying that I still have hope. There is still a spark within me that wants to ignite my passions and become a full-fledged flame.
Let 2011 wander where it may. I’ll be setting my sights on 2012.