2020. Woof.
Remember at the beginning of the year, when we were all like, “Time to SHIIIINE! Bring on the roaring 20’s!” With visions of the flapper girls and economic booms of the 1920’s in our minds, we thought we were kicking off a new era of prosperity and opportunity. We had no idea what was ahead of us. How the year would knock every one of us down and veer us off any course we had the illusion we were on.
2020 is forever the year that the world as we know it turned upside down. The unprecedented time where we faced things that would normally be life-changing and difficult on their own, only they happened all at once. A global health crisis that has so far taken more than a million lives. Quarantines. Virtual learning. Job loss. Or, in the case of many, showing up in terrifying circumstances as a front line worker. Natural disasters that have destroyed everything in their paths. A divided country on everything from the election to mask wearing. Cultural movements, ignited by unspeakable injustices. Gaslighting. Isolation amongst the backdrop of social media and news headlines and opinions, opinions, opinions!
This year was the first time that many of us looked around and thought, “My God. What have we become?”
Hindsight is 2020
My Experience In The Thick Of It
Since we can all only see the world through the lens with which we experience it, I feel it’s important to briefly recap my 2020 here. To help reflect on all this year was, sure, but also for my grandkids. (Yes, I’m going there.) This is the type of year that you make a time capsule. (Which we’re definitely doing, by the way!) It’s the type of year that future history teachers will assign students to go home and ask their families about. It’s the type that, as much as I’m ready to move on from it, I never want to forget.
You know those movie scenes where the person is standing still, but everything around them is moving almost too fast for comprehension? To me, 2020 felt kind of like that.
The year started like any other, only I was VERY pregnant. “Coronavirus” was like a whisper in the crowd – people were talking about it, but it was all said to be “Under control.” So, we didn’t think much about it.
Then, all of a sudden, it was like a hurricane came from nowhere. We tuned into the news to hear President Trump declaring a national emergency. I went into labor that night. Beau was born to an eerily empty hospital, and the doctors knew virtually nothing about this mysterious, looming virus. My mom was the very last person they let into the hospital as a visitor. The Michigan governor issued a stay at home order. We received a text message from Grace and Joey’s school saying school was cancelled for a month. “A MONTH?!?” we thought as we departed for home, preparing for lockdown. (Ha. Ohh how naive we were!)
The next week, the company Doug worked for went bankrupt.
We simultaneously lost our health insurance. (With a newborn and two toddlers. In the middle of a pandemic.) As we faced sleep-deprived newborn days, postpartum healing, frantic job searching, toddler entertaining, complete isolation, and worry for the many health care professionals we have in our family, the next months were intense. (You can read more about our journey in this post!)
We made lots of rainbow artwork. We baked a lot of banana bread. I held Beau and admired him for hours on end. We basically lived outside, visiting every local hiking trail or going to the lake whenever possible. I teetered between checking our temperatures every other minute and crying while feeling sorry for ourselves, to playing and laughing and feeling so grateful for this unique period with so much time spent together. We started our first garden. We learned what it meant to slow down, and enjoy the little moments.
There were also huge awakening moments such as the Black Lives Matter movement. It was a pivotal time of deep reflection and awakening that I really believe has kicked off a lifelong journey for me. (And I know many of you, too!) Closing out the year, the lessons learned from this movement are some of the biggest ones I’m taking with me into 2021.
Things were starting to look up over the summer.
At one point, the COVID numbers in our county were down to under 10 cases a day. We took a (very safe, socially-distanced!) trip to the Upper Peninsula, which was SO needed. We had some outdoor play dates, and even started thinking that *maybe* this whole thing really would blow over by the fall.
Doug was so fortunate to find an incredible job, which he started in July. Collectively, it felt like a massive weight was lifted off our shoulders. But personally, that launched a time period that was almost harder than before, because my partner in crime was now spending his days elsewhere. From July onward, I’ve had all three kids primarily solo, day in and day out, with my parents helping where they can.
The days have felt long. The hours have felt longer.
School kicked off in September, and Grace started kindergarten virtually. The days became even more filled with madness as I tried to juggle helping Grace with virtual learning, homeschooling Joey, and caring for Beau. When both Grace and Joey started in-person school at the end of September, it was like a massive breath of fresh air and I finally felt like things were looking up. But by November, they were back home full time because the COVID numbers were so high. We ended up quarantining for 2 weeks, then driving down to Florida to spend Thanksgiving with my mom and step-dad, which honestly mentally helped to breathe life into me. Back to Michigan after, more isolation, and now it’s now almost January.
This last part of the year has felt particularly heavy.
We’ve had some major “ray of hope” wins, like Joe Biden winning the election and the vaccine roll out. But if I’m being honest, they almost feel too big and far away right now to comprehend any tangible change in this moment.
We’re all going a bit stir-crazy in our home. The girls miss their friends and family. We all do. We’ve felt worried about Doug having to go into work every day. In our extended family, we’ve had multiple family members get COVID. Two were in the hospital. (All are okay, thank God.) There’s this constant worry weighing on our minds. Will we get it? Will we be okay? And will other members of our family get it? Will THEY be okay?
With all that’s been in play, I haven’t found the energy or mental stamina to work much. I feel guilty about that. “Other moms are doing all that I’m doing AND working. Shouldn’t I be able to?!” I’ve been trying to keep in mind that my job is the health and happiness of my family. Any personal ambitions are superfluous right now. But in that, honestly, I’ve felt a little…lost. Optimism carried me (often, us) through the hardest parts of the beginning COVID days. But now, nearly a year in, I feel like I’m at the point with this all where I’m just…defeated? Like my identity is faltering. A bit lonely, despite craving more independence.
At the end of the day (the year?) there are so many emotions at play.
I’m overwhelmed and grateful and sad and happy and anxious and just trying to keep it all together, I suppose. I know I’m not alone in that.
I’m hopeful, mind you. Just totally and completely ready for a change. As we enter into 2021, I know that not much will change over night. Particularly in the beginning of the year, it’ll all be largely the same as it’s been.
But, still, 2021 feels hopeful, doesn’t it?
We Can’t Go Back To What (And Who!) We Were
So, there you have it. My 2020, summarized. What a year! The twists and turns. The upside down.
One thing that’s definitely not lost onto me, is that I – we – are some of the lucky ones. Every single one of us has a crazy 2020 story to tell, and life has dealt some a particularly tough hand. That’s a part of reality that I will never understand. Why do some people – people who are good and don’t deserve what came to them – suffer more than others? There are people who have lost multiple family members. Others who are battling cancer or other health issues throughout all this. Some who have lost their homes in crazy circumstances like wildfires.
The heartbreak. It’s just all so heavy.
No matter what your story is, it’s safe to say that we’ve been changed by this year. To pretend we haven’t is to ignore the deep and monumental suffering that humanity has been put through. I really don’t think you can go through a year like the one we went through and not be changed. We simply can’t go back to what (and who!) we were…and that’s a good thing.
It’s Always Darkest Before The Dawn
Now, here we sit before 2021. Winter has begun. The forecast is currently “Freezing rain with a big gust of OH $*#$, BUCKLE UP.” We’ve been through what many of us would consider the toughest year we’ve ever seen, and unfortunately the experts are saying things could get even worse. We’re in this thing for the long haul.
When it all feels overwhelming, I remind myself that it’s always darkest before the dawn. It really does feel like dawn is starting to peek through. We have multiple vaccines rolling out. In the past few weeks, we’ve had nearly 10 family members get the vaccine. (Lots of essential workers and healthcare professionals!) That alone is beyond encouraging and makes me feel so hopeful. Life will get back to normal. It may take longer than we’d like, but the promise of those bright days ahead are undoubtedly strong.
Winter’s here, but summer’s coming. Sometimes, the only way out is through.
Maybe These 20’s Will Be Roaring, After All
Will I be making resolutions this year? No fricking way. (Here are my 2020 resolutions, by the way. Funny to read!) Right now, I’m all about survival. That’s okay. That’s enough. Getting “ahead” feels like such a luxury. Maybe the year will afford me that, or maybe it won’t. I’m honestly just taking it all one day at a time. Personally, professionally, and everything in between.
I will tell you that this year has definitely made me take a really good look at pretty much every facet of life and realize what’s really important. It showed me who will show up, for better and worse. It strengthened so many of my relationships. And it made me a better friend. A more understanding person. A stronger one, too. There were times when I felt knocked down and like I may break. And you know what? I kept showing up, again and again. Damnit, I’m proud of that.
I believe we all have that choice.
I was looking back on this post, which was written at the beginning of 2020 and that holds all my hopes for the decade ahead. One part really jumped out at me.
I want to make the little moments count, every day, of the next 10 years and beyond. I know big things will happen, for better and for worse. My greatest hope is that, in all those moments, I show up in a way that is positive. That I make them all count, simply by respecting and acknowledging their actual bigness.
And so, as we close 2020, I will close with this.
What is happiness, without knowing sadness? What is a good day – or year – without experiencing a bad one? Would the summer be as sweet, without knowing a cold winter? Would the “Roaring 20’s” have been so great, if the decade hadn’t been set against the landscape of recovery from wartime devastation and the 1918 flu pandemic?
2020 wasn’t what any of us wanted. But, perhaps, it’s what we needed. The lessons learned this past year are pivotal. Maybe it all needed to happen for us all – humanity – to be on a better path ahead. Perhaps, 2020 in hindsight really is 20/20.
Looking back on a hard year, do you know what stands out to me the most? The goodness in my days. The goodness in others. The happiness we were able to find, despite it all. The gifts that were abundant. Life itself.
May we all enter into the new year holding tight to the growth that 2020 gave to us. May we never take the little things for granted.
Cheers to jumping into a fresh start. Let’s start to heal. Let’s take with us all that matters, and leave behind everything that doesn’t.
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PS – It’s no coincidence all the photos in this post are near the water. It’s my happy place. Whenever I need to go somewhere to find clarity, the water is where I go. <3
