"Ahhh! Good ol' 2020!" said no one ever. So, it's no secret that this year has been a tough one, but before I say "sayonara" I would like to take a moment to reflect on this past year, and all those blessings in disguise.
This year has been a year of taking all the "knowns" in my life and shaking them to their foundations. The idea that schools, parks and businesses would always be open and that Holidays would always be for gather are some of the big ones for me. I never even pondered the idea that we would not have in person school. Never. Then one Friday morning, a week before spring break, my children went to school like normal and came home forever. And just a few weeks latter we ended up stuck at home...for months.
If you know me well, you probably know that I am an introvert. True, I am an introvert who sometimes looks like an extrovert, but I thrive on quiet time at home. I don't love big groups, but can handle them if I can find a small group within the group. Overstimulation makes me feel positively panicked. For many the lockdown brought much quiet time. It brought people who were running around like crazy to a crashing halt and sucked people into their homes like a hoover. They played games, put together jig saw puzzles like they were going out of style, and built fantastic gardens. They took a deep breath and long walks and tried to look at the positives. I tried to look at the positives too, but my view, like many stay at home moms of school age children, was very different. This year had been new milestone for me, one I have been working towards for years. Three of my four children were in school, two full time and one two days a week. It was fantastic! I saw people again, I worked on my yard, I organized my house, I had coffee dates for crying out loud! I loved it! And then it was over, and as though someone slapped me in the face they sent all my children back, closed the parks and said "You teach them!" I was devastated. My house was full of little people with cabin fever. I cried, I hid in my room, and I drank lots of coffee. I did the one normal thing I could do and continued to workout from home through Zoom. Burn bootcamp was the one thing that didn't falter, although what that looked like changed drastically. I woke up, worked out in my room and attempted to stay sane. Gone were my hours of quiet with one little child playing happily in her room. Gone were the coffee dates and catch ups with friends. Here was the noise, the bickering and complaining. Here were fractions to teach and sight words to work on. All the things I didn't want to do. And the noise, Oh the noise, noise, noise! 24/7, 7 days a week. It was almost too much. Why did we want 4 children I pondered? How had this seemed like a good idea?
However, one thing that helped keep me sane was the knowledge that I was not alone. Everyone was in this battle. It looked differently for each person, and it played out differently as well, but we were all affected, no matter our views. And we Mothers were stuck at home too, with all the mayhem and havoc that children and internet connections and school assignments can read and we did what we had to do. We rallied. We encouraged and comforted and supported one another in whatever ways possible. I became intentional about Skype dates and sending voice messages to friends. My dad would daily have Sequoia do her reading lessons with him via Zoom because she behaved so much better with him than with I. I had Zoom birthday parties and Zoom game nights. I wrote actual letters in the mail, and received them in return. I felt hope. I got through the school year and we created a new normal. Trips to the fair or the library were replaced with trips to the beach. Trips to the pool became trips to the river instead. We always spend time at the river, but this year it was on overload! Finding new swimming holes and enjoying old ones. We masked up for garage sales and went on treasure hunts. We jumped on the trampoline and went on walks at the Wetlands. We flew kites and sat in the sunshine, and finally, finally, we went back to the parks. We appreciated even more the things we had begun to take for granted. Learning to appreciate what you already have is one of life greatest gifts. As I watched "It's a wonderful life" this year for the millionth time I couldn't help but feel more deeply than ever this truth, that when you realize what you really have what you don't have becomes insignificant.
We camped and had bonfires in the back yard and fixed broken water pipes. We paid high power bills and rejoiced with lower ones. We picked berries and painted faces and enjoyed the freedom of it all. Summer was not the same as before, but it was delightful. It was like the first green grass in Spring, somewhat meager but so well loved. Fall came, and with it my hopes of children filling the classrooms once again came crashing down. The drowning feeling that had flitted away in the summer came back with driving force. I took deep breaths, I planned and organized, and cried. I missed the teachers and the classrooms and the kids catching the bus to school. I missed the social interactions my children no longer had, and most of all, I missed my promise of a return to the quiet (though not lazy) life. This time I had a Kindergartner, a first grader and a fourth grader and a very strong learning curve when it came to all things online school. It was so tough. It was tough for me, it was tough for the parents and it was (is) Oh so tough for those sweet teachers. My kids were sad. I was sad. It was a real challenge. But the sun kept shining. We kept on going, and slowly things got easier. Routines returned and laughter was had. I found myself enjoying having the kids home. We spent so much more time together and the kids have actually learned to play together more without screens all the time. Some of the time they use screens, but not all the time. I was afraid at the beginning that I would break down and all they would do would be watch shows, and so I was intentional not to do this. Some days we did, but most days we didn't. And the glow of children not solely living on screens is delightful. (If you still rely heavily on screens please feel no judgement from me, we all do what we have to do.) However for our household the attitudes of my children are night and day different when they have been using screens often. It's almost shocking.
I will still be glad when schools open, whenever that may be, (not holding my breath over here) but I will miss them, some of the time. I have some pretty great kids and they fill my heart with Joy. So many good times would have been missed if none of this had happened and all the hard times have added to the richness and depth which we experience life. I will always be grateful for that.
We also have been blessed to have had work continue for Seth throughout all of this. The hardship of unemployment which so many face is one we gratefully haven't had to deal with. We have been healthy and whole, and for that I am also thankful.
This year we have watched close friends give birth to new babes and have seen (from afar) the joy that new life brings. We have also experienced the loss of loved ones this year, dear friends who have left great holes in our lives and that pain runs deep as well. I know many of you have experienced this and our our hearts go out to you.
As I look back on this year and all it has thrown our way I can't help but feel the over all beauty of it all wash over me. The Joy somehow magnified through the pain. I have seen anxiety and fear in my life be replaced with Joy and Hope. I have felt frustration and anguish be replaced by Peace. I know where my Hope comes from, and He is enough.
Wishing you all a New Year full of life and love and hope.
