Some years I look back, and it’s not all that different from where I was a year ago. I’m a year older – certainly. A year wiser – hopefully. Not too much heavier – please God. But by and large, things have been status quo.
Not so this year. Last December 31st, I could not have conceived of what 2015 would become. Warning: it’s about to get sentimental up in here. In my wildest imagination, I could not have envisioned the Year of Shirley. Because the YOS was not just exhibits, or auctions, or catalogs, or costumes. It was a genuine phenomenon. A phenomenon of shared passion, happiness, interest and love. Fulfilling in a way I didn’t know existed.
I measure happiness in tears. That won’t surprise many reading this, and I won’t attempt to explain how it works to those who don’t know me. It’s always been thus. I cry as soon as the orchestra plays the first note during a Broadway musical. Tears fall when reading a beloved story. The waterworks begin when watching certain classic films. The more I cry, the more that experience meant to me. And I’ve never – N E V E R – cried the way I have this year. One would think I’d run out of tears, but one would be incredibly wrong.
A year like this will never happen again, much like a child star of Shirley’s magnitude won’t be repeated. But the next year just may bring equally thrilling and fulfilling things my way….and yours. So, so long 2015. It was a very good year.