As the world locked down this past March and we searched high and low for toilet paper and wondered if we should stockpile canned goods, we couldn't possibly foresee the extent of what we were dealing with. And to be clear, we have been exceptionally lucky. Jason and I have been able to keep working. Our family has been healthy, thank goodness. Our kids have had the ability and technology to continue their education and even some of their activities remotely. I know there are so many people who have not been so lucky. My heart breaks for families who planned funerals that only ten people could attend. Or who had to say goodbye to loved ones through a computer screen. Or who suddenly found themselves without work. Or who put themselves on the front lines every day, risking their lives while we were able to stay home. Or who had to, at a moment's notice, do their jobs in a completely different way like the amazing teachers who have done so much with so little to teach our kids from afar.
We are incredibly lucky that we haven't had to deal with any of that. But lucky hasn't necessarily translated to easy. A lot of the time the days blur together because I can't remember the last time I left the house other than to go to the grocery store. And I've definitely lowered my standards for what is acceptable to wear to the grocery store. (If no one can see my face, what does it matter if I'm wearing sweatpants??)
Many days I have to hold back my own tears as my 10 year old suffers through his remote 5th grade class, ten feet away from where I am trying to run a marketing team, crying every day because he misses real school so much, trying to bargain his way into any opportunity to play with his friends in real life.
And often the guilt threatens to crush me because I am constantly distracted by work when I am with my family and distracted by my family when I am working because there is no more separation between the two anymore.
Add to all that the constant worry about what's happening out in the world, the sadness over missing my extended family and the inability to tell my kids exactly when and how things will go back to normal, if there even is such a thing anymore. And if we are going down the rabbit hole of 2020's disappointments- I had to cancel trips to Thailand and to London to run the London Marathon, my 14 year old cat died and I've been battling as yet un-diagnosed health issues that have left me in constant pain and frustration with doctors shrugging their shoulders at me.
So it may be no small wonder that I haven't found the time to write thoughtful and shareable posts this year. But I also haven't found the time to read all the books I have laying around. Or to finish knitting the half done blanket I started knitting for a friend's baby. Or found an agent who loves my book enough to represent me and help me become the next Jane Austen (a girl can dream!). Honestly, most nights we fall exhausted into bed wondering where another day went. And so the year passed by.
But in that year, so many good things managed to slide their way in. Like the miracle of my first nephew's birth, who, despite being hundreds of miles away, has stolen my heart completely. And the addition of two rescue dogs being added to our family - not a completely smooth ride, as rescue dogs come with the ghosts of their pasts, but damn, you do just fall totally in love with their furry little faces.
This year I have watched my 12 year old daughter come into her own in ways I could never have imagined. She took the first brave steps on her journey into who she truly is and I couldn't be more in awe. This girl has never been afraid of a thing in her life and while that makes parenting her more than a challenge at times, I'm just so goddamned proud of her.
I've watched my social butterfly of a husband adjust to becoming a remote worker. He'd be the first one to tell you, he misses listening to music on his commute into the office. He misses water-cooler chatting with his co-workers in between meetings. And he misses grabbing the occasional beer with a work buddy after hours. But he's made the switch and now any time I want to see him, he's a staircase away in our dining room his office with the dogs napping at his feet.
And maybe we haven't gone to the movies or traveled or eaten in restaurants, but we finished the addition on our house that was 3 years in the making that FINALLY gave us an adult sized bedroom and closet. And on top of that we (and by we, I absolutely mean my husband - all him, not me in any way) remodeled a bathroom, built a giant raised garden that output an astonishing amount of vegetables and built the kids a truly impressive tree house.
We've spent more time together as a family than we ever have. We've watched movies and walked the dogs and eaten a ton of ice cream and gotten on each other's nerves and laughed and teased each other and complained about taking up too much WiFi and ran around the back yard and cried and disagreed about everything and wished we were anywhere else and felt thankful that we were here.
So no, I didn't accomplish a checklist of things I thought I would get to. I'm sure there are many people out there in the same boat. I feel bad about it. But also not. I think it's ok to lower standards this year (re: sweatpants at the grocery store). See, we have a jar on our kitchen counter. All year we write down good things that happen and stick them in the jar so that on New Year's Eve we can dump them out and relive all the good memories. Despite the collective dumpster fire of 2020, our jar is still full this year. Maybe the good things are small. An especially big zucchini we grew in our garden. A new trick we taught the dog. A hike on a new trail with the kids. But they are good things all the same.
It would be easy to think that 2021 will be a fresh start and that things will be different. As of now, that doesn't seem to be the case. But I have to believe that when we sit here a year from now, looking back on another year of memories, we will once again be surprised by everything that's happened, hopefully in a good way this time. Maybe the big changes won't start tomorrow, but a year is a long time...sometimes, a very long time.
