2025 in review reflects on growth, achievements and life’s unexpected turns
Some years end with a bang. Others leave you limping across the finish line, clutching a to-do list and a tensor bandage. That defined 2025.
On paper, I hit some professional milestones. I graduated from college with a diploma in executive business administration, completed a grant writing course, and turned that momentum into a new service for local non-profits. In a few months, I’ll know whether the two grants I’ve written were successful.
Many of the year’s story highlights came straight from council chambers. There were big moments, including a new bridge, a new water tower, a major powwow in Smiths Falls, and a new multi-million-dollar public works and fire station in Montague Township. There were shockers too, including an eye-watering number of integrity commissioner reports and overturned plans under strong mayor powers in Rideau Lakes. There were court battles as well, from a forest school in Tay Valley Township to a proposed multi-unit housing development at a golf course in Perth. No matter which community I was covering, there was never a dull moment around the horseshoe.
I also did something completely different this year and worked the federal election. Between four days of advance polls and election day itself, it became a marathon of long hours and body aches, but being part of something fundamentally democratic felt grounding in a way that surprised me. I met strangers who felt like neighbours and crossed paths with relatives I didn’t know I had.
I had a nerve-wracking PET scan and an MRI to check my heart. Two firsts for me. It turns out I still have a heart. The results came back just fine. There was nothing urgent and no surgery required. No drama followed, just a lot of kicking and screaming to get me there. It was a reminder that pushing too hard for too long comes with a cost. Get some sleep. You need to shut your eyes for a while. I will always hear my mom in my ear.
Despite all the grind, there were moments of real joy. My cousin welcomed a baby this year, and I saw a lot of cousins I hadn’t seen since we were much younger while celebrating Christmas at the farm. Then in the fall, I became a nana again. The littlest arrival is tiny and perfect, and just holding her is enough to remind me that the future can still be soft, even when the present feels sharp around the edges.
There was grief too, in the form of death, lost ambition, and faded passion. Some losses take time to adjust to life without the people we love. Others simply need space to breathe before anything makes sense again.
We took two week-long trips to the cottage this year to regain some sanity. Each visit offered the pause I desperately needed. The quiet there is where I reset, where I remember who I am outside the deadlines and the grind. We even managed a short getaway without the dogs, which never happens. Thanks to Mom for looking after the kids while we snuck away for our obligatory summer island date.
I’m also partway through a sleeve tattoo, as I try to finish a story that started with the death of my father twenty years ago. It holds grief and memory, loss and creativity, but like many of my projects, it isn’t finished yet. The funniest part is that Dad shares space with Jack, my beloved tuxedo cat with emerald green eyes. Dad was never a cat person, which tells me he’d find the humour in that.
As I look ahead, I’m not setting a long list of resolutions. I’m choosing rhythm. I’m chasing quiet, focus, and time with people who remind me who I am when the deadlines fall away.
Thanks for being part of it.
Read more articles, opinions and columns by Laurie Weir—Weirview Media. Keep connected to your communities—Read the latest Lanark County news.
