In 2014, I was crying on a stoop the way only very young people cry after breakups. A man stopped and sat next to me and said, “I don’t know what’s happening but it’s going to be okay, the world isn’t that bad.” I nodded and he said, “God bless you.” stood and left. I have not forgotten that moment just as I haven’t forgotten the dozens of people who I barely or did not know, who owed me nothing, who saw that I needed a moment of humanity and provided it to me. There was a couple, when I was young and obviously lost, in an ill-advised relationship with their friend, who spoke to me as an equal and a welcome guest in their home. It was a time when most others reacted by shaming me, rather than the man who should have known better. Women in bathrooms when I was shaken or upset. Strangers who invited me to bonfires and barbeques when I was traveling full time.
I have, since I first realized how those moments impacted me, aspired to be the stranger remembered. Not by creating artificial moments but by paying attention to the people around me and, when I can, providing moments of support. Of course, be kind is not new advice and maybe people will remember you for it is not an honorable motivation. My motivation is not to be remembered, it is try to help people in the way I have been helped.
This is my last essay of 2023 and I do not know where I will be a year from now. I felt the same when 2015 turned to 2016 and when 2021 turned to 2022. Here is what I would like to be: More of a writer and less of a content creator. Balanced in health and bodily aspects, laughing a lot, though of in high esteem by the people I care about and respect and largely unaware of how people I do not care about or respect feel about me.
Happy new year, babes! You’ve got this one.
Remembering you, always!
Hannah Stella
Just last night, my family was out to dinner. As we approached the exit, there was an elderly woman with a walker blocking the door. Did she need help? We asked, and her response was "I'm 98!" with a smile and joyful tone. We hadn't asked, obviously, but we all exclaimed "how great! Wonderful!" as she made her way back to her family (she had gotten ahead of them). We all jokingly said when we get to that age, that's going to be our response to every question asked. I'm glad that she was so proud of herself and that we were enthusiastic for her.
I often find myself in tears at the nail salon 🤦🏼♀️ I guess it’s the idle time where my brain starts to relax and I find myself sad; my mother whom I was extremely close with passed in January of this year. It seems like every time this happens there is an older lady around who offers me comfort and love in the form of wisdom or their own grief experience. I can think of each one of their faces as I read your essay today. Happy New Year and thanks for your honesty and writing, I enjoy it. ♥️