Thursday, December 31, 2020

2020 . . . and Hope

Two of the many masks I've made during the pandemic. I gave them to family, friends and instacart delivery reps who were willing to shop for us. When elastic became scarce,  I used ribbons for the ties. There's a pocket in the masks I make where you can insert a filter. Come 2021, I'll be making many more of these.
 They'll be part of our lives for many more months.


As I reflect back on the year that just passed and think about the one we are about to begin, my confidence is a bit shaken. My beliefs have been tested. My perceptions have been altered. The global community is connected in a way that has brought us closer, but keeps us farther apart.

When I think of the hope that a new year promises, it doesn’t mean the same to me today as it did a year ago. But, perhaps that is part of living during a pandemic. I need to fine tune what hope means to me. Three words that come to mind as I consider this are acceptance, appreciation and anticipation. I wasn’t going for alliteration, it just happened to turn out that way. And maybe that is part of the shift that I need to make in my thoughts on hope. Perhaps it is a shift to a new understanding and that sometimes . . . things just turn out that way.

If I accept the situation I am now living in, then I can move forward while living in isolation. One of my doctors asked me how I was spending my time, where I was going, if I was always wearing a mask and practicing social distancing. My response was that going to doctor appointments was the highlight of my social life. Otherwise, I have remained home except for necessary trips to a few other places and talking to the curbside staff from a distance while they load my groceries in the hatchback of my SUV. And, yes, I always wear a mask. I keep one at the front door so it is handy in case the doorbell rings . . . which it rarely does! My doctor urged me to stay connected and involved. He said, “that is what Facebook is for”. I agree. Listening to podcasts, watching YouTube videos and joining Facebook groups who meet weekly in real time have helped fill my need for social interaction. Learning new things has kept my mind occupied, and like just like about everyone else I know, experimenting in the kitchen has expanded my recipe file. Good old fashioned phone calls may be passe in this day and age of texting, but I love talking on the phone. Checking in with someone and hearing their voice means more to me than reading a few sentences punctuated with emojis and abbreviations that I need to look up on Google! Then there is Zoom. Where would we be without it? I have enjoyed seeing friends and relatives on Zoom and am thankful for the technology that keeps me connected to others. This is how we live our lives now. This is acceptance.


Getting organized is a January tradition that many of us, including myself, partake in every year. Without fail, I make lists, set goals, empty cupboards and drawers, clean closets, and purge my belongings that no longer serve me. Purging is the hard part. I get attached to my stuff and have a hard time letting it go. But going through the exercise of organizing gives me an appreciation of the things I have. Many of them are associated with memories of the people who gave them to me or of the places I found them when shopping in a little boutique while on vacation. This is appreciation.


This is the first blog post I have made since last mid-March. Every time I sat down over the last nine months to compose a post, I didn’t feel like I had anything to write that was as important as what each of you, my dear readers, were going through in your own lives. Many days seemed to just morph into the next, and that was a recurring theme that I kept seeing on social media and on TV ads. But this is the end of 2020 and we are all about to enter into a new year . . . one of hope . . . however you define it. This is anticipation.


It is my prayer that you and those you love are healthy, happy and safe. And until we meet again, may the Lord bless you and hold you in the hollow of His hand.


Emmy