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BARROW NEWS-JOURNAL WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 1, 2020
New Year’s resolution for 2020
Random Rants in Rhyme
For the past four years, my New Year’s
resolution has been the same. It has
nothing to do with weight, being a better
person or cleaning the house more often.
And, for the past four years, my reso
lution, as is the case with most people,
has gone unfulfilled.
I wanted to write a new book.
That should be easy to ac
complish. I’m blessed to be
able to be a full-time writer.
Unlike most people who want
to write a book, I don’t have
another job that demands my
attention every day. I don’t
have children or aging parents
that need care. I don’t have fa
tigue or other health problems.
I don’t have an excuse.
But, still, I don’t have a new
book.
Technically, I have produced
two books in four years. One,
“Let Me Tell You Something,” was a
compilation of some favorite columns
with back stories and follow-ups. The
other, one of my favorites, was a book of
Mama columns and inside stories nev
er told. The kind that had to wait until
she died, to tell. Using one of Mama’s
phrases, it is called “Mark My Words: A
Memoir of Mama.”
But a brand-new, beginning from
scratch book? Nope. That has not hap
pened on the Rondarosa. Mainly, be
cause there IS a Rondarosa and lots of
distractions.
About two years ago, Bud St. Pierre of
the storied King and Prince Resort on St.
Simons Island began inviting me down
to spend time and write a book. Bud is a
cherished friend of ours.
He is also a two-decades long employ
ee of King and Prince who has a dream
to see a book written there, that cele
brates the island.
I had a dream to write a beach novel
for the vast array of women who gobble
up love stories set near the ocean. The
Golden Isles of Georgia are my beloved
islands. Of course, I could write about
St. Simons.
A year ago as Christmas neared, I sat
down at the kitchen table where Tink
and I both work a good deal of the time.
“I’m thinking of going to St. Simons
to work on a new novel for two or three
weeks.”
Tink didn’t hesitate. “Go. It’s a good
idea.”
I loaded the car with provisions —
including a favorite down comforter
and pillow — and headed down, taking
along Dew Drop to keep me company.
Any writer will tell you that
we fear that words and stories
will just one day, up and leave
us. Writer’s block. Probably
because of this newspaper
column and magazine stories
I churn out, I don’t encoun
ter that problem. One never
knows, though.
After a day or so of settling
in, the novel began to unfold.
The characters leapt to life and
I had so much fun.
Each day after finishing
work, I’d sent what I had writ
ten to Tink and he, without fail, cheered
me on enthusiastically, gushing over
what I’d done. Then, spent out of words,
Dew and I would walk a short piece up
the beach to visit with our beloved Roy
and Anne Hodnett. Roy laughed joyous
ly as he held Dew and I talked. It would
be the last days that I spent with that
perfect Southern gentleman.
When I left the island, I had half-fin
ished the book. The finish would be easy
because I had such a solid start. That’s
what I thought.
Then, life unfolded as normal on the
Rondarosa. Days turned into months.
The book lingered without finish.
“I miss Chatty. I love him!” Tink
would say from time to time about a key
character. "He’s one of the best charac
ters ever.”
One day when he said it, my heart
filled with longing. I missed Chatty, too.
His joy and color.
“I’m goin’ back to King and Prince,”
I announced suddenly. “I’m gonna fin
ish.”
I resolve to keep my resolution this
year.
Ronda Rich is the best-selling author
of Let Me Tell You Something. Visit www.
rondarich.com to sign up for her free
weekly newsletter.
All wrapped up!
Now that the big day is over, we’ll
be asking each other, “Take your tree
down yet?” when just a few weeks ago
we were busy adorning our homes with
all the trappings of the season.
It is my hope that you each
had a wonderful day celebrat
ing the birth of our Savior. I
am reminded, though, that not
everyone’s Christmas is mer
ry, and for many, it’s just a
season to endure. Love seems
to feel stronger and deeper
during the holidays, yet so
do feelings of grief and de
pression. For those of you
who have struggled to make
it through the season, keep
hanging on. I’m not sure that
each passing year will get eas
ier, but perhaps different.
For those who had a splendid time of
making merry, it’s time to settle back
down into the normal routine of things.
I personally do not like cold weather.
It’s not so bad during the holidays; it
just kind of goes with the territory.
Once the festivities are over, and the
decorations are packed away, though,
it is easy for me to get the winter-time
blahs. The season of cold, windy, rainy
weather, with cloudy skies and noth
ing exciting to look forward to. Takes
me weeks to put away all the decor,
and I find the task a little depressing.
But, as I’m packing it away, I think of
how much fun it will be to unpack it all
again next year, and I know that it will
make my heart happy to do so.
How about you? What do
you do to make it through the
post-holiday season? I'm bet
ting the number of gym mem
berships will skyrocket, and
Weight Watchers will have
another new plan to entice all
of us to get busy to lose those
holiday pounds that always
seem to find us.
Though the weather may get
cold and dreary in the weeks
to come, let’s try to look fur
ther ahead, and remember
that winter doesn’t last forever (though
here in Georgia, you never know). Try
to keep alive the hope and the love
that the Christmas season brings, and
maybe we can lean on those feelings to
help us through the icky days of winter
ahead.
Cathy Watkins Bennett is a Barrow
County native and a graduate of Wind
er-Barrow High School. Send com
ments about this column to bencath@
aol.com.
cathy
watkins
bennett
Bridges continLied from 4A
Richard lewell was a hero. That fact did
eventually to come to light but it was at a
large price for him. In fact, it was really the
ultimate price he paid.
Make no mistake that Eastwood could
care less about those who criticized his lat
est film.
He wanted to put a hero’s light on Rich
ard Jewell and from all indications he ac
complished that. It’s just too bad Jewell was
not still here to see it.
Winder resident Chris Bridges is a for
mer editor for the Barrow News-Journal.
He has earned awards for column writing
from the Georgia Press Association, the
National Newspaper Association and the
Georgia Sports Writers Association. He
welcomes feedback from readers at pchris-
bridges @ gmail. com.
New Year’s Message
To begin again at age ninety-three
is almost an impossibility.
Your joints are old. All of them creak,
and all of your muscles have gotten weak.
Oh yes, you can make resolutions,
but none of them lead to permanent solutions.
They will not “un-age ” your body one bit.
though it might be a little more fit.
Physical changes are all downhill,
though they may be slowed by exercising will.
It should elevate your gaze and adjust your attitude
to think I'm riding high on the Beatitudes.
“Rejoice in it,” the psalmist said,
“for this is a day that the Lord has made.”
Rejoice in it. Rejoice indeed!
for Christ has promised to fill your needs.
As this writer stated in the first refrain,
“It is almost impossible to start again,”
but impossible is not in God’s vocabulary.
There is one way, so do not worry.
God has made a way to begin again,
though your body is aged and racked with pain.
If you have not accepted Christ’s pardon for your sin,
you should open up your heart and ask Him to come in.
Although your sins be crimson. He wants you to know,
that He can make them as white as snow.
Only He is able (and He certainly can)
in that aged body, create a new inner man.
All your failures, and all your sins
will be forgiven if you ask Christ to come in.
There will be no lengthening of your lifespan,
but you can become a new man or woman in God's plan.
© 2019. cbs
Dr. CB Skelton is a retired Winder physician and author of several books.
skelton
2020 and inner clock vertigo
I have inner clock vertigo today. I
blinked and 20 years of the new cen
tury went by. My inner Rip Van Win
kle has woken to two kids, one in high
school, and gray in his hair. But I was
just in college, right? What is this
trick on me? What is your deal, Father
Time?
Do you relate? We are now
in the third decade of the
2000s, having raced through
the “aughts” (what do you
call those first 10 years?), the
“2010s (twenty tens)" —se
riously, what do you call that
second decade? — and now
we enter a clearly identifi
able decade, “the 20s.” We
still attach the word “roar
ing” to the 1920s, those days
prior to the Great Depres
sion. But what will the 2020s
be? Roaring? Perhaps, but
I hope "roaring” is not the word we
use. I fear what “roaring” would mean
now. I have some ideas.
OK, multiple refs’ whistles are
blowing. The inner coach in my amyg
dala has just raced down the sideline
to signal for a timeout in the brain. His
team of typing fingers is about to run
an ill-advised play. The fingers want to
go dark on you. They want to spell out
all my trepidations about the future
and what a new decade could bring.
But the coach says, "No! Get a hold of
yourselves! Get your tails off the field!
Take a knee around me!”
He screams about positivity and tells
those fingers that this New Year’s stuff
is supposed to be about hope, about
resolutions to be our best selves, about
fresh starts. We enter the post holiday
weeks with the weather cold and days
short, but we know the weather will
warm up and spring will arrive. “Get
your spirits up, boys!”
Maybe the players take heed and
run back out there fired up to give
their best. Or, maybe the players roll
their eyes and do their own thing once
again. Isn’t this the constant inner war
in all of us, the positive outlook bat
tling with the negative?
And aren’t most of these battles cen
tered on time itself, such as why can’t
I go back and change that? Or, what
will my future look like if I do this
now? Or, how do I prepare my chil
dren for the future, and what is that
future going to look like?
Time is so powerful, so present, yet
we often ignore it, too, choosing to
look away. Still, it’s the daily compan
ion. It’s the first thing we hear in the
morning and the last thing we see at
night. It’s the measure of all life. It’s a
work day or a school day or a night’s
sleep. It’s the rotation of seasons and
clothes we wear. It’s a thing
we wish to preserve but nev
er can. It’s the possession we
seem to own in moments, but
then realize eventually that it
owns us, not the other way
around.
Time is numbers and math.
Consider death at 10, 20, 40,
60, 80, 100. Those numbers
present such different as
sumptions about the lives
lived and manner of death.
Time is simultaneously in
finite and finite. It seems
linear but could even curl in ways we
can’t comprehend, which is a beauti
ful mystery. That’s because it exists
out there separately from the confines
of our brains, which can’t comprehend
deep time.
Time can be the root cause of psy
chological dysfunction. It can con
found us and make us feel completely
alone with the ticking of a clock drip
ping like water torture.
Or, time can be the biggest gift we
know if we find a way to accept its
limits. It can be the thing that makes
us remember to remember in the mo
ment — that this is special.
I am thinking about all this with the
vertigo of 2020 vision. I am amazed
by time. Where did it go? What will
it be? Why does it move at irregular
rhythms, sometimes so fast, some
times so slow, which mostly depends
on how old you are, right? Our rela
tionship to its movement alters with
time, which is just another one of its
tricks.
But at least today we have a name
for a definitive decade, the ‘20s. I
don’t know what to call the previous
20 years. No decade name seems right.
Will we simply settle on the "turn of
the century?” Sounds about right, I
guess. Only time will tell. Happy New
Year.
Zach Mitcham is editor of The Madi
son County Journal. He can be reached
at zach@mainstreetnews.com.
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HAZEL