The scene: New Year’s Eve.
The plan: a quiet evening at home with family. The energy is palpable—a mix of magic, anticipation, and, in my case this year, a touch of mayhem.
Our house was brimming with holiday joy and the comfort of family, but then the heat started acting up—a major problem in frigid temperatures. Two technicians came out during the week and failed to find the source of the problem. By New Year’s Eve, the heat stopped working altogether. We found one more technician who agreed to come out and the third time happened to be a charm. After many phone calls, we found the only repair technician available who agreed to take a look immediately.
But the repairman had an additional finding. Miles, our chocolate lab, followed him down to the boiler room. The technician heard munching and saw pink crumbs on Miles’s mouth and on the floor in front of him. It didn’t take long for us to realize, to our horror, that his new “treat” was rat poison. Cue an emergency trip to the vet, only to discover Miles had also consumed one of Abigail’s Chanukah toys (because, of course, why not?). After life-saving measures, Miles was treated for rat poison and naughty-boy-toy ingestion and sent home to recover.
You’re probably thinking that’s it, right? My friend, it was not. They say these things come in threes; thus, my oldest son, David, began feeling not so great. It was soon clear that David was battling norovirus. He became violently ill, and I spent the next few hours back and forth between David and the dog.
By around 8 pm, Michael and I finally had food prepared and were ready to have our family dinner, although David would not be joining. I sat down to dinner, utterly spent and turned to Michael, exhausted, and said, “maybe we should go to bed and wake up next year.”
I intended to do just that, but, as fate would have it, the night held one more twist. Abigail appeared at dinner dressed to the nines in a sparkly dress and ready to party. I was still in jeans and a sweater. But when I saw her effort and enthusiasm, I ran upstairs to change. Maybe I crawled…
Then I announced that it was time to get ready for bed. Disappointment immediately washed over her 11-year-old face. She had her heart set on staying up late, watching the ball drop for the first time, and celebrating the turn of the year with us. And she reminded me that last year I’d been attending a wedding on New Year’s Eve, and she had been so excited to spend this one with me.
I paused. I cannot overstate how fully, completely, and desperately I just wanted to go to bed. But I had an opportunity, and the only thing standing in my way was my own comfort, in this case, intense discomfort. So, I pivoted and leaned in.
Next, there I was—fully spent and watching New Year’s Eve coverage, Abigail snuggled up beside me. We welcomed 2025 joyfully, and the next morning, everyone woke up feeling better, even David and Miles.
Kabbalists teach that gratitude clears the path for blessings to enter our lives. When we appreciate what we have—even in the face of stress, missed expectations, or plans going awry—we transform ourselves and our lives, creating spaces for more blessings. Our boiler broke, and it was cold, reminding us what a blessing heat is. Curious Miles made a bad judgment call that resulted in stress and vet bills, but how fortunate we are to have his wild, unconditional love in our lives. Norovirus is just not good. But I rarely get the opportunity to care for my grown-up son. And even though all I wanted to do was go to sleep, Abigail and her sparkly sequined dress glistening in the glow of the TV, watching her first ball drop on New Year’s Eve, is a moment we will both cherish for years to come. When we transform chaos into gratitude the landscape of our lives—very literally—begins to change. That is exactly what happened to me this New Year’s Eve.
Chaos doesn’t cancel gratitude. It actually helps us to make room for it when we take a moment to choose. In the stretch beyond what’s comfortable, in the moments where we push ourselves to show up despite exhaustion, we find our biggest gifts waiting for us.
And when the clock struck midnight, I felt it—not just the arrival of a new year, but the unmistakable presence of gratitude, wrapping itself around me like the warmth we’d so desperately missed just hours before. Here’s to finding the sparkles in our messiest nights. Sometimes, you discover them when and where you least expect it.
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