New Year’s Eve:

Celebrating the Chaos We Survived… and the Strength We Carry Forward

A Not-Quite-Serious, Extremely Honest Year-End Toast for Military and Surviving Families

As the clock ticks toward midnight and the world prepares to ring in a new year with glitter, champagne, and unrealistic resolutions, military and surviving families gather for a very different kind of celebration.

We don’t toast to “New Year, New Me.”
We toast to:
“New Year, Same Me — but slightly more tired and significantly more resilient.”

Because let’s face it:
If you made it through the last 12 months, you didn’t just survive the year.
You defeated it in hand-to-hand combat.

So tonight, as fireworks pop and confetti falls, here’s a New Year’s Eve message specifically for us — the ones navigating a world held together by duct tape, determination, and the occasional meltdown in the commissary produce aisle.

Raise a Glass If You Survived:

1. At least one PCS or “final move”— or the threat of one

You packed.
You unpacked.
You considered setting everything on fire.
You persevered.

That’s character development.

2. A government portal that glitched at the worst possible time

Claims disappeared.
Evidence evaporated.
Letters contradicted each other.

You refreshed that page thousands of times.
Your persistence deserves a medal.

3. A deployment that lasted either a month or twenty-seven years

Military time has no rules.
You lived in dog years.
You handled it.

4. Bureaucratic nonsense so absurd it should qualify as performance art

Missing forms.
Extra forms.
Forms to confirm you already submitted other forms.

And yet — you’re still standing.

5. Emotional landmines that hit without warning

Anniversaries.
Holidays.
Empty chairs.
Unexpected memories that steal the breath from your chest.

You carried your grief with grace, humor, and more strength than anyone sees.

Let’s Also Cheers To the Victories (Big and Small):

• You made hard phone calls.

• You advocated for change.

• You fought for your family.

• You educated lawmakers.

• You built community.

• You kept going — even on days you didn’t want to.

Small wins count.
Tiny wins count.
Getting out of bed counts.

If this year was heavy, you carried it anyway.

And Let’s Laugh at the Chaos We’ll Likely Repeat Next Year

Because honestly?

• The VA will still send confusing letters.

• DoD policy will still drop late on a Friday.

• Congress will still take 400 days to vote on something simple.

• Someone will still ask, “Didn’t you sign up for this?” (Try not to throw anything.)

• And your PCS boxes labeled “Miscellaneous” will continue haunting your dreams.

But we’ll handle it —
because we always do.

Here’s What I Hope for You in the New Year:

• A year with more clarity and less chaos

• A VA portal that actually works

• A military schedule that doesn’t change eight times in one day

• Lawmakers who listen (without prompting or cattle prodding)

• Progress on survivor and veteran legislation

• And moments of peace in between the noise

Most of all, I hope you give yourself credit for how far you’ve come.

You don’t need resolutions to be worthy.
You don’t need a vision board to be powerful.
You don’t need a “new you” to make an impact.

The you who made it to today is more than enough.
More than capable.
More than strong.

You are entering the new year undefeated,
not because it didn’t knock you down,
but because you got back up every single time.

A Final Toast Before Midnight:

Here’s to the year we survived.
Here’s to the year ahead.
Here’s to us — the fierce, tired, funny, determined advocates, survivors, spouses, caregivers, and veterans who refuse to quit.

We are not fragile.
We are not silent.
We are not done.

Happy New Year — and may next year require fewer forms, shorter hold times, and more victories for the people who deserve them most.