A Decade Later

I remember 10 years ago today like it was yesterday. Marc and I were at the Dart International Sailing Championships in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. I did my first open water dive on New Year's Eve 1999. We were drinking gin and tonics for .35p on a veranda overlooking the sea. The temperature was roughly 96 F and there was a lovely sea breeze. We drank until we rang in the bells of 2000 and our best attempts at staying awake to see the sun rise over the horizon failed. We went for a long and possibly the scariest walk I've ever been on down on the beach where we were the only white faces in a sea of thousands of black faces. We decided that we might not want to go very far so instead we returned to our hotel and enjoyed a lovely braai (BBQ).

Where has the time gone?

In a decade, Marc and I have married. We have 2 gorgeous children. We have a gorgeous home (2 in fact). We run a successful business. I've got an amazing job. We have lost (and gained) numerous pounds. We have laughed and we have cried. We have sang. We have danced. We have made many friends and lost a few (I so miss my grandmother). We have changed in ways that were unimaginable.

The world around us has changed in ways that are unfathomable. In December 1999, Y2K was threatening (but I secretly knew it was all a hoax). September 11 hadn't yet happened and airports were more like shopping malls than lockdowns. No one had Sat Nav. Or an iPhone. Or Facebook. Or a blog.

I don't think I've ever looked back on a decade and experienced such upheaval. I look out into the future and can't see beyond tomorrow. In the next decade at least one of my children will have probably (hopefully?) left home. But beyond that I can't see that far. In December 1999, I never would have guesses that I would be sitting in the sunshine in a gorgeous home in Southern Spain surrounded by laughing, screaming children playing Nintendo DS Lites drinking Cava with fabulous friends I didn't even know but are now our closest of mates.

Maybe I'll lose those final unwanted pounds (and keep them off). Maybe I'll write a novel. Maybe we'll buy our yacht. Maybe we'll win the lottery.

I hope we are always relatively healthy. And warm and dry. And well fed. And happy.

But my overwhelming new year's resolution is to remember to enjoy this moment. And the next. And the next. And the next. But each moment in and of itself will be worthy of enjoyment. And so I shall.

May your next decade be filled with moments that all add up to the realisation of your hopes and dreams.