And so this week’s moment of happiness despite the news.
So Christmas is over. It was an odd one, for sure. We did it via Zoom, with Michael, Olivia and me in different rooms in the condo, on our own computers, Katie on her computer in Louisiana with her husband by her side, Andy in his apartment a couple miles away, on his computer, Christopher with his wife by his side in his house a mile away, and Grandbaby Maya Mae on her own iPad.
All these faces on the screen like the Brady Bunch. Weird. We had a few glitches, of course, but thank goodness for technology. It allowed me to see my kids and my granddaughter and watch them as they opened their gifts. So the holiday was…different. But not devastated.
And now, New Year’s Eve.
Without a doubt, 2020 has been an awful year. The pandemic has been a major part of the awfulness, but of course, political issues have run hot too.
One of my favorite Christmas presents this year came from my husband. It’s a beautiful Christmas ornament, made out of wood, backed in red, my favorite color. It looks like a snowflake. But when you look closer, you see that the “arms” of the snowflake spell a word. The ornament says, and pardon the language if you have sensitive ears and eyes, “Fuck 2020.” It made me laugh.
But it also made me want to cry. I could only hold it up to the screen to show my kids and watch them laugh. We weren’t able to pass it hand to hand.
What a year.
At 12:01 a.m. this coming morning, we will cross into 2021. I think that most of us have the common sense to know that change isn’t going to be instantaneous. 2020 isn’t a skin we’re going to shed. But I know that many of us are also dreamers, who hope-hope-hope that something magical will happen and our country and this world will suddenly snick back into shape, as of God or a Higher Power was a chiropractor and adjusted us into our proper posture.
So we need to prepare for waking up tomorrow morning, without much changed.
Yet. We need to celebrate the Yet. Change is coming. But change is rarely fast.
My moment(s) of happiness this week came from watching people post what was good about their 2020. I saw lists of job triumphs and health triumphs and personal triumphs and births and moves and glorious sunsets and sunrises and on and on. And my moment(s) came from watching people reach with hope toward the New Year. Hope!
Hope still exists. And I still have hope too.
Lots of good things happened in 2020, amidst the chaos. I managed to come up with a moment of happiness for every week of it, except one. This was a challenge, let me tell you. But I did it, and I’m better for it.
My friend who is going through breast cancer during this time ends every email with one word: Onward! And I stand with her.
And now…on to 2021. Happy New Year, everyone!
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.