One year after, 700,000 are lost,
faces from the evening news, others
who have left indelible traces upon this life.
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Grey skies, constant drizzling rain, drooping trees, and whipping cold wind welcomed us into Covid-19 quarantine with a sky that matched our spirits. My husband Rob and I had just moved into a new house a month before the pandemic and were finally feeling settled. Life pre-March was fairly routine. I
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This year, I’m hanging a few lights on my rental house for the first time. Our neighborhood has been conspiring on Facebook to fill up the streets with Christmas lights, and people have been sharing lights and decorations and mapping all of the houses for people to visit. It’s a pinch of goodness in a year that most of us can at least agree has been hard.
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I’ve been hiding out from the world now for 55 days. In the beginning, there was adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I made lists of projects and hopeful homeschool schedules and age-appropriate chore lists written in marker on index cards. Like a lot of us, I heaped pressure on myself and everyone around me to do better and become something better while we had so much unbroken time. We aren’t in the beginning anymore, are we?
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