A blank screen stares at me as I try to begin this blog. … …
The thing I struggle to know how to put into words is all the feelings I have at the one-year mark of this crazy thing we have called, “corona,” “COVID-19,” “pandemic,” and “new normal.” One year. ONE. LONG. YEAR.
I’m a person who is usually overflowing with words, and I feel that words are bursting inside me now, but I’m not sure exactly what they are. Relief? Thankfulness that one year is behind me? Sadness? Gratefulness to be through it?
2020 was hard for all of us. I’m not the only one who experienced major life troubles on top of a worldwide pandemic. The pandemic was just a springboard for a really, awful year for my family as my sister passed away in April of last year due to a long battle with cancer. I spiraled downward into grief and anger. I wasn’t alone in experiencing an abundance of pain. It seems so many people I know had troubles piling on top of troubles.
Now, a year later, I don’t know exactly what to do with the year I just had. I don’t know how to process it. I don’t know how to file it away. The one-year mark has brought back a flood of memories and feelings.
It was a year ago this week that my daughter came home from school one day and didn’t go back. My husband and I both knew, based on the amount of schoolwork sent home, she wasn’t going back in “two weeks.” I’m a mama who works two jobs and suddenly I was also a school teacher, a business owner, a news anchor… and all with three little kids. I’m not gonna lie, I enjoyed the extra time with them at moments, but other moments were increasingly hard.
Suddenly my husband and I, business owners, had no idea what would happen to this new business we just started. Bad timing, huh? A year later and our industry is still affected. A year ago, though, we had no idea if we would stay open, or be forced to close. We couldn’t afford to close. We could lose everything. Unfortunately, so many people did. Every day we questioned, would we make it? There were a lot of sleepless nights.
Then there was my sister. I cannot claim that I grieved alone. In fact, it felt like the whole world was grieving with us. It felt like they canceled Easter just for us, so we could get her home from the hospital for the last time. Yet, I cannot say that my grief was greater than anyone else’s. My good friend lost both her parents this last year. Many were dealing with COVID illnesses and deaths. Everyone was affected. People lost jobs. It was just a hard year.
As I fought the struggle between anger and sadness and dismay, it seemed the whole world was also experiencing it. Riots and slurs and … madness. I felt the whole world had gone mad. We had all lost it. And that I did. I lost a lot. My personal world was lost. It will never be the same.
So, how am I expected to feel now a year later? Some days I reflect on the lessons I’ve learned… the thankfulness for family, the importance of having one another, the blessing of my job, the thankfulness for the simple things – like eating in a restaurant. I’ll never take life for granted again, because now, as we all know, it can all change in a minute. One. Minute. One minute my kids were in school and the next they were not. One minute I was holding my sister’s hand, the next I wasn’t.
Don’t take anything for granted. Nothing can be held forever.
Sometimes as I reflect on this year, I feel such a relief that I could almost cry. It’s been a long year. I’m just glad it’s over. I spent many days this last year looking backward at what I was missing and longing for days past. Many days I would look ahead and the future looked bleak and uncertain. There was nowhere to look. Except UP.
So, that’s what I did. I began to focus on something greater than me. Someone greater than the storm. Something bigger than a global pandemic. Something more powerful than death. That’s where I began to deal with my pain and my anger. I zoomed with a counselor. I cried a lot. I journaled. I struggled with whether God is good. I questioned if He remembered me. I remembered that I can trust Him. We struggled through it together, God and I, step by step, day by day.
For so long my world just stopped; the whole world just stopped. I stood still, not sure whether to look behind or look ahead. I feel relief to finally be able to look forward. I look forward to tomorrow. I have begun to feel the anger and grief melting slowly to reveal a hopefulness I had forgotten. There’s that hopefulness that encourages and renews and strengthens me.
Spring. How we needed spring. It’s here. It speaks to me. It defrosts my heart and my memories. It brings sunshine and flowers. Yes, it brings memories, and some of those are sad, but the winter is behind me. I’m ready to step out into the sun.
I don’t know how you are processing this. I’m not sure if anyone knows how. I just know that I am going to take the spring and the warmth and the sunshine. I’m going to carry with me this last year as I go forward. I will forever carry this year with me. We all will. But I will go forward. I’m just glad I’m going forward.
