I looked back over the past few years of New Years columns, and they’re a hodgepodge.

I used to write a recap about the previous year. But then the internet came along, and those kinds of wrap-up stories filled the web.

Some national columns zeroed in on specific topics, like sports highlights, entertainment or pop culture, and were head and shoulders above my writing.

I gave that tradition up and concentrated on columns involving the human condition.

I’ve written about making small resolutions, like cleaning out the pantry and dusting the miniblinds. One year, I thought I’d visit other states. The furthest I got was Louisiana.

Then there were the years I wrote regrets for not calling people more, not letting go of past hurts or being a selfish friend or relative.

Those still sting.

Writing about specific holidays is fun for the first couple of years. After that, the goal is to find a new way to write about holidays that fall on the day my column runs. Eventually, the writer runs out of innovative holiday column ideas.

I’ve arrived at that year in January 2025.

I have no words of wisdom, no list of resolutions and no advice worth passing on.

Instead, I’ll stay on familiar territory. Perhaps the goals I promise myself in January might actually come to pass by the time December rolls around if I keep them realistic.

One year, a resolution was to clean out the medicine cabinet. I was surprised to discover how many medications were expired. I learned the hard way that expired meds aren’t worth keeping.

I cleaned out my sock drawer back in 2016. But it’s a wreck again as is the kitchen junk drawer and my office. I’m convinced I work more efficiently in clutter.

At least that’s the rationalization I tell myself.

A couple of years ago, I promised to stroll the streets of downtown Rosenberg, and that’s a resolution I accomplished.

Visiting that area on a pretty day is something I’m going to do again. Hometown shopping with the people who live and work in our area is not only fun but also helps neighbors. Most of all, downtown Rosenberg shopping is a lot more fun than walking around a sterile mall.

I enjoy browsing through the antique shops as those are a walk down memory lane. One of my favorite places to visit is the Art Center. It’s a colorful reminder of how wonderfully creative people can be.

In 2017, I wrote about going back in time to my teenage days. I’m still looking for go-go boots, and the soundtrack to “Saturday Night Fever” remains a favorite.

Some resolutions stay on the list year after year.

I’ll keep adding “make apologies” to the list again. I know myself – I will continue to blunder through life, so apologies are part of my daily life.

Another thread over the years is self-improvement. I’ve promised to stop nagging, to listen more and talk less and to pay attention. Losing weight is always on the list.

I’ve failed miserably in all of those categories.

So, I’ve amended the resolution to one that’s actually doable – give myself a break.

Accepting who I am and what I can and can’t accomplish might be the best resolutions I can make for 2025.

All those lofty promises have accomplished is make me feel guilty for what I didn’t finish and not give myself enough credit for what I did check off the list.

Reading through my past New Years columns, there’s one wish that appears year after year.

It’s to remain hopeful.

And, in 2025, that’s a resolution I can honestly keep.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.