Carrying Light Into 2026

Standing and watching the last-ever street fireworks on New Year’s Eve—before the ban is implemented—made me reflect on all the changes 2025 brought with it.

Lower blood sugar. A little more mobility. A hearing aid in my right ear to join the left one I was already wearing. I found new online friends. I dealt with allergies that completely turned my once-healthy diet upside down. Jessy and I navigated a new and very different routine at home. There was loss and grief. But there were also many cherished memories made together—memories that include my Dad.

It would be easy to say the year felt like a rollercoaster full of ups and downs. But truthfully, if this rollercoaster could have gone in any other direction, it would have gone sideways, done a backflip, and somehow landed me right back on my feet again.

I’ve watched the street fireworks on New Year’s Eve for 13 years in a row, ever since I moved to the Netherlands. While making a conscious effort to truly cherish this last one, I found myself thinking about why the ban is being implemented. Fireworks are beautiful to look at, and they’re one of the few things I feel I can see and enjoy in exactly the same way a sighted person does. But they’re also dangerous. People get hurt. Animals get hurt. Nature gets damaged. In the end, it’s safer and kinder for everyone if we attend organised displays instead of letting fireworks explode freely in the streets.

And with that thought came reflections on all the changes I’ve navigated this year—and the reasons behind them. I don’t have answers for everything. Especially not when it comes to grief and loss. But I can see how some changes—though challenging—eventually brought something positive with them. Wearing two hearing aids now gives me the audio feedback I need to navigate the world more safely. Adjusting to a new routine at home has helped us take better care of ourselves and pay closer attention to our health, both mentally and physically.

I firmly believe that we, as humans, would prefer a cozy life where everything goes according to plan and nothing ever changes. Change can be hard to navigate and costs a tremendous amount of energy. But for me, the realisation that change can sometimes bring something good with it has been powerful—and it inspires me to embrace it. And when it comes to the unexpected loss we sometimes face, I’ve learned that you have to hold onto light, even when everything feels dark. Sometimes that light comes from help—like when Jessy helped replace my 26-year-old fibre optic Christmas tree after its lights finally stopped working. Other times, the light appears when you least expect it—like the huge rainbow that stretched across the sky in front of our car on a very sad and emotional day, while driving home after dropping Dad back at the airport.

2026 is here, and I’m ready to embrace whatever it brings. I’m looking forward to some of the things we already have planned.

Happy New Year, dear reader. Thank you for taking time out of your day to read my humble blogs. It means more to me than I can properly put into words to know there are people out there who find comfort, joy, or recognition in the thoughts rattling around my brain. I hope 2026 brings you warmth, joy, and inner peace.

And I promise this: I’ll keep writing. I’ll keep leaving little lights here on this page—so that whenever you need it, even on the hardest of days, there is always somewhere you can come to find a bit of glow. ✨