It’s snowing outside. It’s October 26th and it’s snowing outside. Not just a sprinkle of powdered sugar dusted on the ground, it’s the kinda snow that weighs heavy when you try to sweep it off the sidewalk. It’s unusual for it to be snowing this much in the dry desert in the middle of October.
Then again, life has been a little unraveled these days. Wouldn’t you say? It’s unusual that an entire city, state, country and world to be going through so much at the same time. I mean, it’s okay when a person or family may be going through hard times, but when everyone you know and everywhere you turn are having a difficult time, it makes it difficult to cope.
2020 was suppose to be a BIG year for us. It was the year Kevin would graduate High School and go off to college. It was the year Avery would start Kindergarten and Stacy would be in her Senior year at Highlands.
2020 was suppose to be year of milestones. My mother-in-law planning her trip to Italy to celebrate a mile stone birthday. It was the year my dad decided to place my grandma in the Nursing Home because she was just getting too hard to take care of.
2020 was suppose to be a great year. Instead it became a year of loss, a year of cancellations.
I don’t know about you, but this time of shutdown has me really reflecting on the value of time and how precious life really is.
It’s ironic really. I mean I am really good at making up worst case scenarios in my head. If someone doesn’t text back in 33.5 seconds they are dead from a car crash. If we finally pay off one debt the transmission breaks and I am doomed to walk everywhere for the rest of my life. And what’s so ironic is that the plans I had for 2020 were nothing horrible. They were plans of prosperity and abundance. I didn’t think I would have to bury my grandma during a pandemic. I didn’t think I would have to drive my son in a parade to receive his diploma. I didn’t think he would be back home in his room taking online classes instead of living and having the time of his life at the college campus. And now we are doing our best to navigate online kindergarten. And teaching online was something I didn’t sign up for either.
Granted, I have a job. I have a house. I have food to eat. And the masses say, be grateful. I am. I am grateful. But I’m also hurting. Can someone do that? Can someone be grateful and hurt at the same time?
All I know is that what we are going through is hard.
It. Is. Fucking. Hard.
It’s not the shut down alone, that is so hard, oh no. It’s the fact that ON TOP OF the shut down we have to experience all the losses that this pandemic caused: Loved ones. Jobs. Money. Lifestyles. Marriages. Friendships. Community. Sports (to some degree). Eating out. Shopping. Travelling. Visiting. I’m sure I’m forgetting a few items. And so we are all experiencing loss and grief right now.
It’s hard to be supportive to others when you yourself also needs support. So then we end up suffering alone because we don’t want to burden anyone with our petty little problems when everyone else is going through so much.
If we could only put down our judgements for now and just be there for people.
But lo and behold. People still only care about their own agenda. They only seem to care about their political views. So the best thing to do is spread false news and fear like it was hot fresh Krispy Kreme Donuts.
Lately, I feel like I’m losing myself. I don’t know yet if that’s good or bad. I just know that I am in the middle of a process and it’s depressing me. I know I’m suppose to be hopeful and faithful and make the best of it, but it seems so much like the snow I am watching fall from bedroom window. Heavy. Beautiful. Hopeful. Peaceful, yet causes so much havoc. It’s unusual as this whole year has been, and much like the snow, we cannot control it. We can only let it be.
I do believe that a person can be grateful and hurt at the same time. In fact, that might be a sign of maturity or this shut down has officially caused me insanity.