One year.
365 days.
So much can change.
A human can be conceived, grown and birthed. A whole new life entwined forever with a family in less than a year!
New jobs, new homes, new milestones, new losses. So many moments in just one year.
But what about the year where everything and nothing happened all at once?
Where events and moments were postponed so many times that eventually they were simply cancelled altogether. Families and friends kept apart. Lives adapted and molded to fit many different needs. Lives lost.
Too. Many. Lives. Lost.
Sure our family has had our changes too, a new home, a new business venture, the start of homeschooling. And yet, it feels like this year has flown by in it’s stagnant limbo. Whisking us away and at the same time forcing us to repeat the nightmare that is life in a global pandemic day after day.
The mind is a funny thing, making us feel like the world stopped spinning just yesterday while also making us question exactly what normal life was like? Like an alternate reality we look back at memories and reminisce about how it felt to be at crowded functions with loved ones without a second thought. Did we really appreciate those moments for what they were? Did we truly value them? A year later and we are still left processing the surreal nature of watching the tsunami coming at our lives with little power to stop it.
There are plenty of families who have shifted, adapted, and who continue to go about their lives with minimal interruption but what about the families left behind on the side lines? The ones, who like us, are forced to watch the world start it’s wobbly rotations again but who can’t quite be a part of it. The ones who scroll social media, watching friends take steps back into the world and wishing more than anything that they could safely do the same. The ones who’s fear of missing out pulls at the corners of their minds, stacking doubt upon doubt. Am I crazy? Am I hysterical? Am I making the right choice for myself? For my family? For my children? For my neighbors? No longer the loudest voices, so now somehow forgotten amidst the clamor for normalcy.
This year everything stopped and yet everything has changed: relationships, family dynamics, hobbies, jobs, lives. The word “essential” has taken on a new weight and our debt to these front line workers can never be repaid. For many of these heroes, life has been altered beyond recognition as they live separately from their children and loved ones to protect those they hold dearest from potential exposure. For far too many people, loved ones have been lost. The catastrophic, life altering events of this year cannot and should not be diminished.
But what if we learn from this year? While holding those who have suffered loss close, honoring their experiences, and mourning their loved ones, what if we also choose to see what has been learned, no matter how small? What if we place value on the relationships that have stood the test of isolation and those who found ways to show up even when they couldn’t really show up? What if we focus on those silver linings no matter how faint to just pull us through to tomorrow.
For our family, that means appreciating the ability to slow down. To appreciate not being pulled in different directions, with distraction filled schedules jam packed until we barely see each other. To have three meals a day as a family. Movie nights, game nights and so many small moments in between.
I’ve held my crying kids countless nights asking when they can see friends and family or questioning if life will ever be normal again. Little voices asking questions prefaced by “after COVID can we…?” echo through our house like a skipping record. But I hope that when we look back, when my kids look back, they will know we did our best to follow scientific guidelines and the advice of those who know so much more than we do. They will know that we made the decisions that we felt were in their best interests at the time. That there was no handbook for parenting (or simply living) during a pandemic. That we chose not to live in fear, but instead in knowledge and love.
That we are human.
I hope that they look back on these days and weeks with an appreciation for what we did have instead of being filled with sadness for what was missing. That car horns and traffic remind them of car parade celebrations for birthdays that had to be adapted. That they are filled with warmth when they think of the many movie nights curled up together on the couch. That they remember their full bellies stuffed with goodies made together in the kitchen. That they remember having freedom to explore interests and adventures right here at home with those who love them most while we experimented (and fell in love with!) a whole new approach to education as a family. That they remember and value the PRIVILEGE we had in our ability to stay safe and isolated, at home, together, while many others were not afforded this same luxury.
But most of all, I hope that they will look back and know what it means to sacrifice for others. Not just for members of their own family and those they hold dear, but for the members of families they do not know. That they will look back and know that even at such a young age, they made sacrifices for the good of their fellow human. A truly difficult lesson to instill under normal circumstances!
Whatever that sacrifice looks like for you, for your family, for your kids…we have all had a year and it is time to give each other and ourselves the grace we so desperately deserve.
