… and there’s reason to believe, maybe this year will be better than the last…
Long December by the Counting Crows was playing ad nauseum on the radio the winter I got my driver’s license. The winter of 1997.
To this day, when that song comes on the radio, I am transported back to a two-lane road covered by a canopy of bare tree limbs and flanked by mounds of slushy gray snow. I am driving my dad’s 1992 Dodge Stealth. Nevermind that the car had serious transmission issues and a few dings on the driver’s side: for a 16 year old high school student, being able to drive that car ALONE with complete autonomy over the radio was an excellent gift.
While I was driving that car, the ink barely dry on my driver’s license, I remember feeling that those moments were very, very special. I knew, as I was living those moments driving down that road, that I would remember those moments always. I was free, but I was safe. I enjoyed the luxury of driving a wonderful car, without the pressure of having to pay for said car.
At that time, it was hard for me to fathom what life would be like as a grown up. The day-to-day responsibilities and the many things my parents orchestrated in order to keep our home and our lives running alluded me. I had a vague idea that being an adult was complicated, challenging and, oftentimes, messy.
This is my first December as a mom and for some reason, these lyrics keep coming to mind. Maybe it’s because I hope I remember this time of my life as clearly and as crisply as I remember some of my favorite moments of my youth.
and it’s been a long december and there’s reason to believe
maybe this year will be better than the last
I can’t remember all the times I tried to tell myself
to hold onto these moments as they pass