Old Year, New Year

 

 

 

 This perplexing year is winding down

 

Our heads have not stopped shaking

 

As if we're experiencing a wild dream

 

From which we're having trouble waking.

 

—from 2016–I still feel the same!

 

Farewell 2020

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

This year we learned 

To wash our hands,

And value toilet paper,

We sported masks,

Wore pants less,

And kept our distance proper.

Docs and nurses became heroes,

Teachers taught from home,

Kids and parents did their best,

While unable to freely roam.

Technology use increased,

As we tried to stay in touch,

With those that we were missing,

Slouching pant-less on the couch.

Many people lost their jobs,

Many lost their health or life,

Others lent a helping hand,

To those living with great strife.

Through it all, this crazy year,

The year called 2020,

We looked for good,

We hoped and prayed,

For the world and our country.

 

There is no denying that 2020 was a year unlike any that I can recall.  So very many things, big things happened, and it was hard to keep up with what was going on.  I think for me I will most remember what was taken away.  It was the year that my job as lunch lady ended with the closing of schools for an extended period of time.  As of this date, January 1, 2021, the buildings are still closed.  With the disappearance of my job came the emptiness of no daily contact with friends and coworkers, and interactions with acquaintances and students. People are what I miss the most, I think.  Hillary also lost daily interaction with her friends and carers at her day program; I also lost the little bit of respite from her care that I had.  Of course, I also lost my income, but since my husband is considered an essential worker, he has continued to work throughout the pandemic and we only needed to make a few adjustments to keep us afloat.  We are incredibly lucky in that.  I also lost my freedom to go out and about with Hillary to stores, parks, and malls since she is medically fragile and I can’t take a chance on her contracting the virus.  Even wearing masks is not enough protection for her since it’s tough keeping it on her for any length of time.  My husband and I lost date nights, and any parties we might usually attend.  I miss sitting across from him in a booth at our favorite local restaurant perusing the menu, stirring our coffee, and making small talk.  Sure, we can do that at home but it’s not the same.  We lost our vacation to visit family that we usually take, and holiday get togethers except for the summer ones with local family because those we had outside. Thanksgiving and Christmas felt empty and weird.

Another huge loss of 2020 was the death of one of my brothers to a sudden heart attack.  It was a shock; it still doesn’t feel real even though I know it is.  We weren’t able to gather for a funeral, it doesn’t seem right, and there again is something that this virus took away.  It was strange not buying him a birthday card or Christmas gift.

My older daughter moved out of our house into her own apartment and while I am so happy for her, it feels strange still, all these months later, sitting on the couch in the evening without her.  It’s a strange quiet that I’m still getting used to.

I think that many people felt much loss in this year that just ended, loss that we will all continue to come to terms with for a long time. My wish for 2021, among others, is that we will all learn make peace with what our lives are like, and how they changed from what we knew before the pandemic hit.

On Loss and Grieving

Sometimes things happen and you don’t know what to say.  Sometimes there just isn’t any right thing to say.  Platitudes and trite sayings just don’t cut it when someone loses a loved one whether it was a total shock, or “expected”.  As if knowing such an event was on the way would bring any comfort!  Words are so very inadequate to express the shock, sadness, sense of loss, devastation that you know are being experienced at least 1,000 fold by the family.  You want to help, do something concrete.  I have sat with a very dear friend who lost her young daughter, just holding her hand, crying, talking, hugging, and expressing disbelief.  I have done this the day after her daughter left the Earth, and many times since in the intervening years.  I tried to figure out what the best thing to do or say is, and the only thing I can say is that it seems not mentioning the person who’s gone is the worst thing to do.  Even when talking about her makes her cry, my friend most wants for her daughter to be remembered.  Talking about those who are no longer with us keeps them present in our lives, helps fill the void somehow even though it is like one raindrop in the ocean.  I often talk about my parents who are both gone, I keep a picture or two of them around, it helps keep them in my life somehow.  Grieving is such an individual thing. There’s no right or wrong way, but not getting stuck in part of the cycle seems to be the key to continuing on with our lives here on Earth.  Just like keeping the pedals on a bicycle in one  position will not allow you to move forward, neither will staying on one part of the grieving cycle.  I know so many people who have lost loved ones recently, husbands, children, parents, siblings, and pets.  It all hurts.  Sometimes I feel like maybe I should edit what I say, what I write, in an effort to be sensitive to their losses.  If I did that, however, I’d be hard pressed to make conversation or write a letter or Facebook status.  We all lose loved ones, it’s part of our journey.  It never seems to make sense why the ones who go are chosen to do so when they are chosen.   I don’t know that we’re supposed to really make sense of it, but we try anyhow.  We’re each on our own life’s journey.  We help each other as best we can, try to learn from each other, and lend some comfort in whatever form—hugs, prayers, listening, holding hands, or just sitting silently side by side passing tissues.