I was hauling a several hundred pound log through the woods with a group of 12 women. We were passing the time by complaining about the holes in our socks.
“We should have a sock darning party,” someone said.
“What’s a sock darning party?” someone else grunted as they adjusted their carrying strap.
“I don’t know yet. We’ll figure it out when we have one!”
I still haven’t had a sock darning party, but that was just about the only type of party I didn’t have this year.
I went to an “I Got Published Party”. I went to birthday parties. I hosted a “Stability Party” and a “Crafting Party” and a “Voting Party”. I went to protests that felt like parties. And I created a group chat labeled “More Parties 2025”. We’re going to have to update that name now, seeing as how it’s New Year’s Eve and tomorrow we’re having a “Taylor Swift Documentary Party”.
My word for 2025 was Jubilant. And all considering, I did pretty good at it. The year started with fires and ended with floods. We lost more national political battles than I can count. Many of my friendships went through growing pains as we all begin to turn to the next chapters in our lives. I was never home longer than four straight weeks and I was never confident my job would last longer than the next three months. And yet…
I got a cat and had one job and one house for one year (for the first time in my adult life!). I was invited on a family (not mine) road trip to Glacier National Park. I started attending city council meetings and they are everything Parks and Rec promised. I built so many new friendships – most of whom started with me asking for help. I chiseled steps into a rock that even the glaciers couldn’t touch. I kept submitting short stories at my local writing group. I visited 12 State Parks as the beginning of my quest to see them all. And I watched all of my many, many kids continue to grow up and make me so proud.
Celebrating our successes, small wins, tiny moments, is never more important than when life feels impossibly dark. The new administration moved faster than I think many of us expected this year – and they broke so many things. In the face of that, I chose to be jubilant. I chose to build a community who throws silly parties and has each other’s back. We can’t fix all the broken things. So instead, we will grow something new and vibrant. Something which will patch up the holes, like a darn in a sock.
My word for 2026 is Comfort. It’s a word that has many facets, and I’m sure the new year will too.
Now, it’s time to go change the group chat name to “More Parties 2026” and finish prepping my Taylore Swift themed cheese plate.
Kesia Lee 