JanuWorry is what they call me
Because when they see me coming
All they do is worry
Broke is what they call themselves
when I visit
because they didn’t keep any
reserves for me
when they were partying up
a storm with December,
as if that’s my fault!
Long is how they describe me,
saying they can’t wait until this 31-day
visit is over
and I am only a distant memory
The only time they are excited is on the first day
of my visit
and even then they are riding on the wings
of the month before
They don’t know I feel sad,
neglected,
rejected,
Hated even
It isn’t easy to celebrate birthdays
because everyone simply says,
‘I don’t have money’
This means those who are supposed to celebrate
life with me, feel let down
All everyone does is count down the days
and plan for the rest of the calendar
February, the month of love,
with her heart-shaped chocolates and
fluffy red teddy-bears
April, celebration of Easter and new life,
A time dedicated to the Messiah
June, the long-awaited school holidays,
even the kids enjoy that one
and then of course my nemesis,
December
when everyone feels relieved the year has
come to an end and they can rest and be happy
And come together with Christmas carols and neatly
wrapped gifts
What they forget though is that I too offer gifts,
A new start
A clean slate
A reset button
An opportunity to forget the past
if that is what is desired or required
I offer strength,
resilience,
a chance to dream and hope again
And get that budget right for next time
and of course a reprieve from all that has
happened the month before
I am not JanuWorry,
I am January.
A chance to start again
Despite my lack of popularity.
