I always get a little wistful and nostalgic at this time of year.
This past week marked my 24th anniversary at The Times and my 29th overall in the journalism profession.
I generally do headlines I would like to see as my new year’s column, but this year, I am writing the year a letter.
Dear 2025, Thank you for stopping by.
Thank you for your contribution to my life in all kinds of ways.
Thank you for my house renovation.
I enjoyed the beautiful snow storm you sent in January. I even made a snow angel and lived to tell about it.
A great big thank you for not having any hurricanes this season. I think 2024 outdid herself and we have met our quota. Can you ask 2026 to keep that going for next year?
But, keeping it real, I could have done without that heat wave in late July. It barely cooled into the 80s at night. I have lots of extra insulation on me already, so I didn't need the additional heating.
Yes, I know the extra insulation is my own fault. Yes, I am well aware I broke my promise to you to lose weight after New Year’s. But, I didn’t exactly make it a resolution, either, so there.
I had hopes that you would do better in some ways, too.
I thought politics might be a little, tiny bit better since the bitterness of the election of your sister, 2024, was over. But, no. Boy, was I wrong. It’s worse than ever before.
I could have done without the arguing and fussing and fighting that passes for our national debate these days. One side is always fussing at the other about something and precious little gets done. I am not a fan of the leadership of either at all, but there’s not much you or I can do about that at least in the time you have left and, honestly, possibly for three more years. I am not optimistic that any leader from the right wing or the left wing of this goofy bird we call our national experience can even get off the ground, much less stay aloft and take us where we need to go as a people.
But, enough about that. I am also not going to spend much time on sports, but can Coach Smart take the Bulldogs to the National Championship again? Can you talk to 2026 about that? I enjoyed it very much the last couple of times and it would be fun to experience it once again. Same goes for the Braves. Can we go to the World Series one more time? And, the Falcons? Well, how depressing. Oh, 2025, you know they were out of contention in the NFC South by the national anthem of the second game. But going forward, can we please just make the wild card? If the longhaired guy from Jacksonville can do it, why can’t we? If that’s what it takes to get there, can we trade for him?
And 2025, as if I have to remind you again, I still don’t have any significant other in my life. The church and the newspaper take up vast amounts of my time, but maybe 2026 will let me have someone in my life. I feel like I’m running out of time. In fact, 2025, kind of like you are. You know, the days of your life will run out at the stroke of midnight tonight.
I see your sibling, 2026, coming down the line. I waved at 2026 the other day when I was looking at calendars. I needed a new datebook, but Santa overlooked that on my Christmas list. But, there it was 2026 was staring at me. 2026 said to not worry at all. They would see me in a jiffy.
2026 said she would bring lots of new experiences for us, like politics in overdrive. I didn't want to hurt 2026’s feelings, but to prepare for that reality I am currently hunting a trash can with a barf bag liner or an extra large toilet. That will be about what politics will be for us this year, too, I am afraid.
But, 2026 will be a clean slate. A new canvas. A fresh start.
And, so, 2025, this is goodbye. Thank you for being in my life. Take it easy and don’t forget to write.
• Jason Deal is News Editor for The Times. Reach him at jdeal@blacksheartimes. news.
