Introduction: A year of contrasts
Reflecting on 2025, I’m struck by how a single year can oscillate between elation and exhaustion, between a spare kidney becoming a lifeline and the everyday grind of life in Cork. Sober October wasn’t just a month of discipline; it set a tone for the year ahead. It reminded me that small, steady choices can ripple into big, meaningful shifts. This is my account of the highlights and lowlights, the victories and the moments that tested me, all woven together by gratitude and a stubborn sense of purpose.
Highlight: A spare kidney and a full heart
This year, my 16-year-old nephew, Kieran, received a kidney transplant. Saying it out loud still feels unreal, yet the relief and gratitude are tangible, almost physical. It is, quite literally, a new lease of life for him. Watching his slow, careful recovery has been a reminder that medicine can work miracles, but it’s people—the surgeons, nurses, and family—who hold those miracles steady in the hands of time.
For everyone who stood by Kieran, who learned the language of hope and held the line when fear spoke up, this is a shared victory. The transplant didn’t just save a kidney; it restored a sense of everyday possibility. A full heart, in every sense, returned with a stubborn light that refuses to dim. And while the journey is far from over, the day the doctors said “success” was a quiet, loud moment: the kind that makes you rethink every small mercy you once took for granted.
Lowlight: The emotional and logistical toll
With every high comes a counterpoint. The waiting, the worry, the fatigue—these aren’t dramatic headlines; they’re daily realities. The emotional weight of someone close to you facing a major operation is something you bear in shifts, often without fanfare. Then there are the practicalities: medications, follow-up appointments, and the never-ending questions about how best to protect this hard-won gift of health. The balance between hope and caution is delicate, and there were days when I felt pulled in too many directions at once.
Another lowlight was the sense of upheaval that accompanies big medical journeys. Sober October already primed me to value discipline, but caregiving tests resilience in ways that are less glamorous and more humbling. The truth is that you cannot predict every outcome, and you cannot control every moment. What you can do is show up, offer steadiness, and carve out pockets of normalcy wherever you find them—even if that means quiet evenings at home, or a walk by the river to reinvigorate a tired mind.
Mid-year reset: Cork carry on
In Cork, life keeps moving, and so do we. The city’s rhythm—the coffee cups, the bus routes, the friendly nods from neighbours—became a grounding force. Sober October taught me to notice the small decisions that shape a day; Cork carried that lesson forward. I learned to say yes to things that nourish the spirit (a long overdue catch-up with friends, a walk along the marina, a late-night conversation with someone who needed to be heard) and to say no to what drains energy. It’s not about perfection; it’s about sustainable habits that support health, happiness, and connection.
Low-lights and lessons learned in 2025
There were moments of frustration when progress felt slow or when plans didn’t pan out as hoped. But even these setbacks have a role. They teach patience, recalibration, and the art of letting go gracefully when necessary. The year reinforced the value of community—people who show up with a plate of food, a supportive message, or a simple “you’ve got this.” We can’t control every outcome, but we can choose the people and routines that stretch us toward better versions of ourselves.
Looking ahead
As 2025 closes, I’m not chasing a flawless arc but a resilient one. The transplant story will continue to unfold, the Cork carry on ethos will persist, and sober habits will remain a touchstone for clarity. If there’s a thread tying these experiences together, it’s this: gratitude is a practice, not a feeling. Each day offers a new way to live with intention, to protect health, to nurture family, and to keep moving forward with hope as our compass.
Conclusion: Gratitude in motion
Writing this down makes the year feel complete, even with its rough patches. I’m grateful for the lessons, the people who made them possible, and the enduring belief that, in every challenge, there is room for growth, grace, and a Cork-inspired, carry-on spirit.
