“I remember the year that Clayton Delaney died…no, wait, I was remembering the year Molly Farkle was diagnosed with plantar fasciitis. My bad.” – with apologies to country music legend Tom T. Hall.
I gave up on maintaining a detailed daily journal a quarter-century ago (around the time my father passed away and around the time I tired of screaming, “Okay, it’s a detailed daily diary! Are you happy now???”), but I have disciplined myself to cobble together the highlights of each year in the final days of December, either as a Word document or an email to myself.
(The less said about COVID-era 2020 and the Post-it note of fabricated highlights, the better.)
So far, my 2025 milestones preserved for the ages include: finally buying an air conditioner for the kitchen; signing up for Medicare; adopting two kittens; inheriting my mother’s house; serving as pallbearer for my next-to-last uncle; making incremental increases in “nunya bizness” time with my wife; learning to sleep in the doghouse for sharing too much personal information…
Time gallops by at such a breakneck pace, it gives you a much-needed feeling of control to be able to fine-tune events and narrow a date range to a matter of weeks or months. Of course, some cases are more extreme than others. (“Which year was it that I visited Fiji, Beijing and the Vatican all in the same summer? Hold on…that was my father, when he was a Cub Scout. Seriously, I need to be on six fewer committees!”)
A one-stop-shopping distillation of your year is so handy. It’s invaluable for settling arguments. (“Which litter of puppies did Max come from?” “Did the Johnsons really never miss a single one of our Labor Day barbecues?” “Which year did you dress as Alec Baldwin for Halloween, and exactly how many jack-o’-lanterns did we have to pay to replace when the gun kept firing by itself?”)
On the other hand, it can also start some arguments. (“What do you mean you think you unsubscribed to the cloud account that held the only description of our vow renewal ceremony???”)
A year-end capsule/database provides enormous practical value. (“What was the name of the handyman who did such an outstanding job on the deck 10 years ago? Is it time to get a tetanus booster shot? Shouldn’t our great-nephew be nearing graduation time? Is your mother due for a second compliment? Is the arsonist we testified against up for parole, and why have we wasted our time writing down which movies we watched instead of filling out the Witness Protection Program paperwork???”)
Practicality is just gravy on top. Year-end reviews are priceless for reminiscing. You can spend a rainy Saturday afternoon simply savoring memories. Granted, the warm, fuzzy feelings can be threatened as you encounter the progression of certain relationships over the years. (“Fun new neighbors moved into the house next door.” “Fun new neighbors ‘borrowed’ our CPAP machine.” “Fun new neighbors called the cops on us because they didn’t like our snoring…”)
No pressure, but I think it behooves you to make a habit of jotting down those births, baptisms, promotions, renovations and the like.
Besides the long-term benefits, it could help you strengthen recollection and avoid expensive errors.
“Wait — Clayton Delaney died when?! Then I’ve wasted enough birthday cards on him to buy that pontoon! Hey, stop recording this for posterity…”
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Copyright 2025 Danny Tyree, distributed by Cagle Cartoons newspaper syndicate.