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PAGE 6A 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. r $ 5 00 0FF Ticket Of s 2ff° Or More. Valid with coupon Mon.-Thurs. only. 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