Here we go. Prepare yourselves: I’m going to talk about the year of our lord 2020.
Trying to think of something heartfelt and uplifting to write during a pandemic is hard. I am a person who finds joy easily and genuinely. I often get teased for my levels of excitement over things others find standard. And I wake up often with a grateful heart. But I will admit that I, presumably like you, feel the toll of the year 2020. We are in the home stretch: it is almost over. And the turning of the calendar into 2021 won’t end our collective exhaustion. But it will mark an end to a season of it.
It’s hard to say how we can find joy in these times. Everyone’s situation is different. My struggles and moments of ease may not be yours, and vice versa. I feel like something we all have in common though, is that none of us expected any of this. Unless you followed underground conspiracy theorists about a worldwide pandemic and happened to predict January 2020 in the communal conspiracy theory betting pool, I’m going to go ahead and assume that every month after January has taken you by surprise. And not the fun kind. The world-wide pandemic kind.
Like the rest of you, between March and May I laid very low. Those months passed by in a blur. They were enjoyable days for me in some ways. I am kid-free and I am not an essential worker. I spent a lot of time reading Harry Potter on my balcony for the millionth time. I always turn to this book series when I need comfort. The story was like a warm hug as I sat on my warm balcony with my warm beer and my fragile heart and got lost in another world - a world that was safe because I knew the outcome. (Spoiler alert: Harry becomes king of Middle Earth as he takes his place on the Iron Throne) Meanwhile my summer income wilted away with every discouraging phone call made by brides and grooms who (rightly so) made the hard choice to call off their weddings. Turns out being a wedding singer is crucially contingent on there being weddings.
Still. I know I had it good. I had a warm balcony and warm beer and the warmth of my loved ones whom I wasn’t able to hug but through it all remained safe. I feel uplifted by counting my blessings and relying on my life-long honed skill of finding joy in the little things. I always like the New Year and 2021 won’t be different. I reflect upon the highs and lows of the year gone by and I force anyone in my vicinity to do the same. I suppose this year the lows will be lower than they have been in the past - for all of us. But my hope for all of us is also this: That we can still identify the highs. The moments we felt loved or normal. The new recipes we learned how to cook. The internet memes that spoke to our souls. Our sweeping global fascination of an unstable redneck and his very tired tigers. Perhaps your high was re-reading your favorite book or knitting a new hat. Perhaps it was discovering a strength within you you never knew you had. Whatever it was, drag it with you through the rest of 2020 and then present it proudly to the New Year as a badge of honor and a moment in time where you prevailed and won in a time of great uncertainty and vast unknowns. It doesn’t matter what it is. The smallest victory or memory can sustain us all - all we have to do is fan its flame.
