A Letter from the End of the Year
Not a wrap-up, not a best-of, I PROMISE
What a strange little week. I’m working, but it’s slow. I intended to tidy my home yesterday, and I did a little of that, but mostly just talked to friends and hung out with my cat. I moisturized. Is that something? Yesterday it was sunny and warmish outside, and so hot in my sunbaked apartment (where I don’t have control of the heating) that I turned on a couple fans. Today it is rainy and I see the waves on Lake Michigan and hear the sound of wet tires on wet streets.
I understand why some people will send a year-end letter to their far-flung family members to explain what’s gone on the past year, because they are proud of their family and also because it’s too exhausting to reach out to all these people individually. Raising children seems absolutely exhausting, as does merely existing in the world sometimes. I would welcome letters like this from my actual dear friends and beloved family members so that I can catch up on what they’ve been doing. I also enjoy my loved ones’ matching pajama pics and dog photoshoots.
But I find general, massive and braggy social media family press release end-of-year wrap up letters to be interesting for about five minutes, during which time I can typically cram in three different people extolling the virtues of their lifestyle and/or the woes they’ve endured. I like to figure out who may or may not be getting divorced, and which children are budding criminals. But soon, I get bored.
Naturally, while very tired yesterday, I got jacked up on Cafe Bustelo cold brew espresso and decided this was the year I should join these people in their public statements of familial accomplishment.
So I wrote one myself and posted it on BlueSky and Instagram (follow me for fun things like hallucinatory missives.) I shall share it with ye now.
This year I did so many things so well. To be humble about it, I owe a lot to the brain-goats who whisper instructions to me every five to seven minutes, as well as the day-walker vampire gays who eat my heart every night (it regrows by morning - thank you belly tea!!!!)
I continue to be married to a doctor and we continue to have thirteen adult children who talk to each other in a language they invented to survive the “trauma” we inflicted on them and their cousins (whom we also raised, we are heroes!!!)
This year our household mourned the loss of the many relatives we threw into the well, and also celebrated the arrival of the babies we pulled out of the well (there was some crossover, don’t blame me, I just work here!)
Tonight I’ll lovingly dress my many guns in pajamas and put them to bed as usual in the rooms where the children used to sleep (they are all adults and live on their own but together, they sleep in one big cuddle puddle in a very large bed in a hayloft in Hartford-adjacent, where they own and operate a church as well as a Stewart’s Root Beer franchise.)
I feel proud and grateful knowing that while myself and Doctor (his full legal given name) have been through a lot together, we have surely put others through much more. Here’s hoping you find your own barnyard animals to live in your own brain this year! We are rich.
And there it is.
Here’s a photo of the aforementioned rainy lake situation.
I am fortunate to have a growing subscriber base, but fewer than 3% are paid subscribers. Thank you so much to those of you who are able to financially support my work. You really do make a huge difference in my life, and your generosity helps me keep most of my writing public and free. Paid subscribers get two extra issues just for them each month, as a thank you gift. (That means paid subscribers will get an additional post before the end of the month, aka the end of today!)
If you are a Chicagoland person, grab your tickets to the debut of my new monthly live show, CLASS! with Sara Benincasa & Chad the Bird. It will be at Lincoln Lodge on January 16, and our intent is that it shall be pleasantly insane. Each monthly installment will feature a different topic as well as guest lecturers (generally comedians). January’s topic is DRINKING, and oh, the stories we shall tell.
Speaking of drinking, I’m very grateful to be alive and sober today, and very glad you’re here. Thanks for reading my stuff this year. I hope to have more for you next year, Lord willing and the cat don’t smother me in the nighttime.
Love,
Sara
I don't want to brag or anything, but I have 14 adult children, and they are all rested, moisturized and *thriving* in the bespoke submarine business, with a side hustle to import/export of goods from South America. I try not to ask too many questions.