AS 2025 comes to an end, I find myself doing what many of us do at this time of year – slowing down, looking back, and quietly preparing to move forward.
It has been a year filled with moments that will stay with me for a long time. Some were happy and encouraging. Others were painful and difficult. Like most years, 2025 was not neatly balanced. It was real, layered, and at times, heavy.
Through it all, I thank God the Almighty – not only for the joyful moments, but also for the challenges, difficulties and trials that came my way.
Faith does not take pain away, but it gives meaning to it. It reminds us that even during our hardest days, we are never truly alone.
This year, I experienced loss in a way that reshapes a person. The passing of my mother, just a year after my father, marked the closing of a chapter I was never fully prepared to let go of.
Losing one parent is already life-changing. Losing both within such a short time leaves a quiet emptiness that words can never fully describe.
Grief does not always arrive loudly. Often, it settles gently into everyday life – in small routines, in moments you instinctively want to share, in questions you suddenly realise you can no longer ask.
And yet, even in grief, there is gratitude. Gratitude for the love given so freely, the values passed down, and the memories that time cannot erase.
2025 also reminded me that life does not pause just because we are grieving. Work continues. Responsibilities remain. The world moves forward, even when our hearts are still trying to catch up.
And so, we learn to adapt. We move on, not because we are ready, but because we must, drawing strength from faith, family, and purpose.
Amid the personal loss, this year also brought achievements and meaningful work. There were milestones reached and responsibilities shouldered, moments that reminded me why purpose matters.
Work became more than just a routine; it became a source of stability when emotions felt uncertain. It gave structure to days when everything else felt fragile.
For that, I am deeply thankful.
I am grateful to colleagues who understood without needing explanations, friends who checked in quietly but sincerely, and family members whose presence offered comfort when words fell short.
Sometimes, support does not come in grand gestures. It comes in patience, understanding, and simply being there.
If there is one lesson 2025 has reinforced, it is this: life is never just one thing at a time. Joy and sorrow often walk side by side.
We celebrate even as we mourn. We give thanks even as we struggle. And perhaps that is the truest reflection of faith and resilience – learning to hold both at once.
As I bid farewell to 2025, I do so without bitterness and without regret. Every year – even the difficult ones – leaves something behind.
Wisdom gained through experience. Perspective shaped by loss. Humility learned through hardship. Strength discovered when we least expect it.
Now, we stand at the doorway of 2026.
A new year does not erase the past, nor does it promise an easier journey ahead. But it offers something just as meaningful – a chance to begin again to move forward with clearer eyes, steadier hearts, and deeper trust in God’s guidance.
To my wife and daughters, and to my wider family and close relatives: thank you for being my anchor through both the calm and the difficult days. Your love, patience and strength have carried me through this year. May the year ahead bring good health, renewed hope, and more time together.
To my friends: thank you for your kindness, patience and support. May 2026 be gentler and brighter, filled with peace, purpose and quiet moments of joy.
To my colleagues – especially those who share with me the demanding path of journalism and public service – thank you for your dedication and camaraderie. May the coming year reward your hard work and bring fulfilment, both professionally and personally.
And to everyone reading this, wherever you are and whatever 2025 has brought you, may 2026 be a year of healing, progress, and small but meaningful victories. May we learn to be kinder to ourselves and to one another, and may we continue to trust that every season of life, in its own way, serves a purpose.
Farewell, 2025.
Welcome, 2026.
And that, indeed, is something worth pondering.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at drnagrace@gmail.com.
