Dearest Rachel –
It’s the jocular expression used of a New Year’s Eve when departing a place and taking your leave of some people you expect to see soon enough, but not until at least the next morning; the joke, of course, being that the following day will be part of the the following year. It’s a hoary old chestnut that gets just that little more stale with every year and every re-telling, and yet we can’t seem to refrain from using it, since we only have that one day a year or so in which to use it.
What’s getting a little ironic about it at this point, though, is that it feels like it takes an event like this for us to get together anymore. When the subject came up about the last time the six of us got together at the house, someone mentioned the time after I’d gotten back from Japan – which, assuming it referred to the last time I was there, would have been a year and a half ago (and if it was when Daniel and I came back from there, it would have been two and a half years ago). While I’m pretty sure we’ve gotten together since then, the times we’ve all met at the house have been few and far enough between that this almost feels plausible.
Again, you would have found this to be so disappointing. Back in the day, you could convince us all to get together on a regular basis; every week, even, or every other week at more… schedule-heavy times like this. I really couldn’t tell you what happened, other than that you left, and there wasn’t that same force of will holding all of us together (I actually put down “the six of us” at first, but with you here, that wouldn’t necessarily have been the case; then again, Logan wasn’t the fixture around here that he’s become since, so maybe that’s the trade that’s been made). For all that I used to try to replicate that force at first after your departure, it’s more difficult than you made it look; to some extent, I’m slowly giving up on the possibility of things ever getting back to the way they used to be.
Of course, that’s the whole point of a new year celebration, now, isn’t it? “New year, new me” is another one of those pithy phrases that’s dragged out at this time of the year, every year. This year, things will be different, better even, just you watch and see. Resolutions are made to change things; this moment is meant to lead to a step forward. Going backward is not usually seen as an option.
Then again, I suppose there are the occasional resolutions to “connect with old friends more” in the coming year, so maybe considering it a step backward is a little harsh. At the same time, it’s silly to resolve to do something that one doesn’t have a lot of agency over. Even between two people trying to reconnect, either one of them can only control fifty percent of the scheduling conflicts, more or less; when you add other people to the mix, that percent drops accordingly to thirty-three, twenty-five, and so forth (For the moment, I’ll leave Daniel and Logan out of the equation, as their schedules don’t contain much in the way of conflict). And that’s assuming everybody even wants to reconnect; if that proves not to be true, it becomes like a veto power in the U.N. General Assembly.
To be sure, I’m not saying that’s the case for anyone in the group; I don’t know anyone’s thoughts or motivations other than my own (which explains why, despite all efforts to the contrary, the most common word in these letters is either “I” or “me,” much to my shame). In fact, as the girls began to make their way home, Logan was asking them as much as myself about one of my pet projects pertaining to getting together – that of the six of us possibly hitting the high seas together on a cruise. Clearly, this is an idea he’s enthusiastic about, even more so than myself, since I’ve all but given up on this being a thing (mostly due to the aforementioned scheduling conflicts – the events of May, in particular, have left me gun-shy of making such plans – but also a lingering sense that there’s at least one veto out there, if the subject were to be broached). Sure, I may be able to put something together – with the assistance of my agent, of course – but I don’t see this as being up to me anymore, if it ever really was.
So, this isn’t one of my resolutions for the year, since it’s not something I can do much about. All I can do is try to keep the place tidy and open for whenever the gang feels like dropping in of an evening, and making sure we’ve got the pantry stocked with whatever we need to feed everybody that shows up. Maybe if we (I include Daniel and Logan in this responsibility, as the dining/family room is more their hangout than mine) manage as much, it won’t be that we have to wait all year before we meet like this again.
To that end, I’ll need to ask you to keep an eye on us, honey, and wish us luck, as we’re more than likely to need it.
Letters to Rachel 