My end of the year photo.

Photo: Taken from the Internet

After reviewing some memories and looking at our New Year’s photo, I remember a text I wrote a long time ago for another media. Back then, perhaps there were not as many distances as now, nor many empty spaces in the portraits, but something made me want to write about the subject that I now find more relevant and, with several modifications, I share with you.

The wise Solomon said that everything has its time and everything under heaven has its hour: time to weep and time to laugh (…), time to scatter stones or to gather them together, to embrace or not, to seek and to lose, to be silent and to speak, to love and to hate, time of war and time of peace.

The beginning of the year for most of us is the time to set new goals, to opt for a change of appearance, of air, of work. The beginning of the year usually makes us believe that we are capable of anything with a little more effort, with a little less obstacles.

And so the months go by and January usually surprises us again with the same list of unfinished projects that almost always begin with the first person singular despite the hugs and toasts on the 31st.

However, the clock does not stop at the end of the year photo, although it seems that the snapshot eternalizes grandma’s smile, dad’s firm pose, mother’s or aunt’s hug, the kiss of love, the friendly hand.

The family sometimes remains there, contained in a four by six picture that may even occupy a privileged space in the living room, while we wear ourselves out to fulfill time after time our reworked planning.

We focus on the goal, run, study, work until exhaustion, fight, come back and leave again, while the happy picture turns yellow and time… does not forgive.

And the fact is that greeting the new stage should not be reduced to selfish plans that relegate our own to a place behind in that long list. Rather, it is about establishing priorities and the necessary balance so that we do not have to regret when certain satisfactions or personal goals fail to bring us back to the warmth of home.

It saddens me to see so many separated families, disengaged parents, ungrateful children, siblings in discord. Because of shortages, because of money, because of a dream, there are many empty spaces in not a few sad photos.

Some, although to a lesser extent, succumb to the accelerated pace of the modern era and reduce the family to a cold call on special dates, or a fleeting visit once in not a few years.

It is not all those who move away who neglect their families. Many fight for them until they are reunited or tired, but unfortunately there are those who always prioritize their projects and even drink, as they say, the famous «Coca-Cola of oblivion».

However, was not mistaken who said that individualism and living for oneself is squeezing the soul and leads to the most deteriorated loneliness, not that of the lack of company, but another much more destructive one: that of not being even with oneself.

That cell of society where love, mutual respect, the education of children, constitute indispensable moral principles, cannot go out of fashion, nor remain in the background.

For this reason and for the hands guiding my first steps, for the precise word, the sleepless nights, the timely advice, the shoulder to lean my head on, this end of the year during the count of twelve and the sound of the salvos I remembered once again that for 2024 my list will continue to be about us; while the names of my first family, but also of the one I am forming and of the one that life has given me with the warmth of so many friends, will be written on the paper; so that even if time goes by and the photo turns yellow, the love and the good memories will still remain intact.

Written by Jeidi Suárez García.