Медленно минуты уплывают в даль,Встречи с ними ты уже не жди.И хотя нам прошлого немного жаль,Лучшее, конечно, впереди.
Slowly the minutes flow into the distance,and for good measure,
Don't hold your breath waiting to meet them again.
Although we're loath to let go of the past,
The best, of course, is ahead!
Может мы обидели кого-то зря,Календарь закроет этот лист.К новым приключениям спешим, друзья...
Maybe we needlessly offended someone
The calendar will close that page.
To new adventures, friends!
Here's another thing I inadvertently came upon for New Year's: a stack of old letters and cards. Dad handed me a binder of papers to sort through, which he'd described as old 403b statements. There were some of those--together with my GRE scores and some old pay stubs--but there was a lot of personal correspondence from over a decade ago, when I lived in the area. It was all addressed to Boston--I'd kept the envelopes--but I'd left it here for whatever reason. It struck me how prolific my friends and I were, on real paper. It was back in the day when letters were really a thing. Exhibit A: