All I can say is: It’s a good thing I’m writing this stuff down.

If you had just strolled by and asked me, I would have said that January was kind of okay. Nothing huge. I probably would have remembered a lot of bad stuff that sticks out like literally sore thumbs.

But when I go back and read each day, trying to figure out which one is our Besst of January, I find these standouts:

January 2: I wake up to find a sparkling kitchen (not an everyday occurrence in Casa de Chaos, where night owl teen-aged boys wreak havoc every evening. I was so moved, I was inspired to poetry.

January 6: During a stressful, painful, worrisome day, my guardian angel made sure I didn’t keel over in a strange town.

January 7: Still not having the besst day, I rained all over a coworker, who accurately diagnosed the situation and provided the perfect medicine.

January 9: When it looked like we needed a miracle to get the Rebel Alliance to the rendezvous point, a miracle was delivered.

January 14: I focused on the benefits of the very thoughtful gift the Sons, Interrupted got me for Christmas. Bonus: it was a true O. Henry Gift of the Magi, as they pooled their own Christmas money and bought it for me.

January 23:I was given a sudden and stunning reminder of how thoughtful the world is.

 

Damn. This is gonna be hard.

As much as Deborah and Mike deserve it, those Bessts were all about me whining and someone else doing something to just make it stop already (though I know that they did it because they’re kind, lovely people who just want to make it stop already.) 

It’s nice to know that the Miracle Cab Company exists, though.

I can pay someone to clean my kitchen, and the night owl teenaged boys will be trashing their own kitchens soon enough. I was especially proud of the haiku, though.

First runner-up for The Besst of January: Towel Warmer. Every time I look at it, I am reminded of two boys who begged me to take them to Bed Bath and Beyond so they could spend their Christmas money on me. I get all verklempt, every time I think of it.

The Winner: Old friends reaching back through the years and remembering everything on January 23. When that post hit, I received an outpouring (in Mom, Interrupted terms) of old friends remembering the time I threw up because of a Christmas tree, or my crush on the UPS man, or the time I pretty much knocked over a J-john trying to pull up a tight pair of Spanx.

Most of all, these are the people who remember a man they never met, in a very special and meaningful way, every year. Sometimes they are the people who remind me that it’s time for another meeting of the Chocolate Milk Club.

The fact that they remember these stories I’ve tossed out over twelve years could be attributed to my fabulous writing skills. If that’s the highly improbable case, then that’s no Besst.

It’s far more likely, and far more the Besst of the last twelve years, really, that they remember because they are a large group of good, kind, thoughtful people I stumbled upon quite by accident.

And that, my friends, is The Besst of January.

February has some large shoes to fill.

© E. Stocking Evans 2014