Reluctant as I was to write a New Year’s post, I knew that it would be a good thing for me to go ahead and do it. I’ve always been a glass-half-full kind of woman, so here I go.
When my husband and I brought in the New Year, I didn’t know what I was feeling. Actually, I felt sort of lost. New Year’s Eve had never felt quit like this before. We had always celebrated with three other couples and had been doing that for more than thirty years.
What was there to celebrate anyway? I was still going to worry about getting Covid-19 and keeping “socially distanced” from others. What a dismal term. I was a little depressed but, as is usually the case with me, I WASN’T DOWN FOR LONG.
Many years ago I made a pact with myself. Rather than beat myself up when I was down, I would let it in, I would live in it. I wanted to just BE with my down self, watch it, sort of swim in it. What was it all about anyway?
The next day I felt much better. I was feeling pretty much like myself. I was upbeat for the most part, but something was nagging me. I went outside and watched the trees in the wind and listened for the special sound that occurs when a light wind moves the branches in the ponderosa pine in my back yard. It was such a light sound, I really had to concentrate, but I heard it. I took a breath, what a blessing. So I decided to continue to count my blessings. My family, my darling husband, my home, my dog, my abilities, how I love my work, my health, and my love of mother nature – just a few of the blessings I counted that day. However, along with my blessings I realized there was a deep sadness, way deep in my gut. I needed to hug my daughter and my granddaughters. I wanted to physically make contact with them. Hugging my granddaughters is one of most loving and joyful things I do. Of course, I love hugging everyone in my family but granddaughter-hugging brings a special kind of happiness.
I know it will be a while before I get to hug people again, especially when Covid-19 is so rampant in Los Angeles. It continues to challenge me with bouts of loneliness, but I always feel better after writing something.
I know from talking to my friends and family that I’m certainly not alone in my feelings. It’s funny, but I’m grateful in knowing we are all in this together.
To all of us who have seen movies and read books about a terrible p andemic and never had a thought that we could be living in a world filled with a terrible disease: surprise! Here’s hoping we’re better prepared for the next calamity.
In the meantime:
And
Happy MUCH BETTER New Year