A year.

This is my first blog of 2021. That seems crazy to me. For nine years I wrote a blog every morning. Rarely, if ever, missing a day.  So many things changed for me with the start of Covid. Like others, I pulled within myself. I stayed home. I sheltered in place, etc.

During this time I painted furniture, built puzzles, baked, cleaned out closets, used my rowing machine and treadmill, played a lot of cards and board games, watched movies, read a lot of books, began to learn how to paint with acrylics and watercolors and started a tie dye business, Sadie Kay Originals, with my girl. I celebrated my 60th birthday at the start of Covid and am about to turn 61. With a compromised immune system I rarely left the house.

Thursday we are heading south to our place in Florida. We left there last March 17th after friends and family sent more than a few texts telling us to get home.  This is us when we were still not thinking about Covid.

All things considered I had a good year. I am a bit of a homebody so staying home has not been that big of a stretch for me. I have checked my priorities about what is important to me. One word that comes to mind is grateful. It has been a year of deliberate actions. By that I mean, not once did I walk out the door and just go anywhere. I thought ahead before I saw someone other than John and Sadie. When we had a few driveway get togethers last summer I was very happy to see my friends on a new level.

It is March. Typically March has been a hard pill for me to swallow. My cellular memories of March are traumatic. Are desperate. Are horrific. Now, that is not to say that I don’t have wonderful memories of March. Sadie and I both have birthdays in March. In 1994 my best birthday present ever was bringing Sadie back to Pittsburgh to be my forever Earth daughter. Wonderful memories.

I’m at March 15th. Halfway. Two days ago was the anniversary of the surprising passing of my sweet mama. Next week it will be nine years since my dad died. I miss both of my parents with my whole heart. But, I am doing okay.

The hard pill to swallow is the fact that Joe will be gone 10 years on the 30th. Ten YEARS!? When I begin to think of all the things he may have done in that amount of time I stop short. Stop. Don’t go there. There is nothing there for you.

I am asking for signs and they are arriving almost instantly. I will share a few stories later this week.

But, back to Covid. We are a world in grief. With more than 500,000 in this country who have died from this virus I can’t see how any of us are coming out of this unscathed. I hope that in our grief we can become a kinder and more loving group of people. That God’s peace can settle into the souls of the suffering. That when Covid is a memory and one day, and one day it will just be a memory,  that we can meet people where they are instead of where we want them to be.

Today, reach out to someone who may be suffering. Call or text a friend to just say hello and let them know you are thinking about them. And, be kind.




Comments are closed.