Reflections After One Year

Here’s what I want to remember from the last year:

+ Sitting at a restaurant with four of my coworkers and one of them saying, “Oh shit, COVID’s just been declared a global pandemic.”

+ “Two weeks to flatten the curve.”

+ Being told that we were going to be working from home, and the incredible excitement I felt about it.

+ Canceling my flight to New Orleans (we were supposed to go in April).

+ Being on a trip with friends and someone saying, “Let’s remember this time and enjoy it because soon, life as we know it is going to change drastically.”

+ Less social anxiety, more generalized anxiety.

+ Cutting up a scarf to make a makeshift mask to wear when grocery shopping (a time before cloth face masks were everywhere).

+ Zoom book club, Zoom writing dates, Zoom game nights

+ Driving around town and seeing empty parking lots at restaurants and shopping centers in the middle of the day.

+ The first time I went to a restaurant. It was weird and I felt like I was being a terrible citizen.

+ Grabbing a package of toilet paper just days before the TP shortage got dire.

+ Doing Covid self-checks online every time I felt a little under the weather.

+ Not seeing anyone in person for two months, until I decided to widen my bubble because I wouldn’t survive this time without being around people.

+ All of the birthday surprises my friend group put together. Every single one was special and planned out perfectly.

+ The way seeing everyone around me wearing face masks never stopped feeling weird, never stopped making me think I was living in a dystopian novel.

+ How face masks started to become a fashion statement and a way for you to express your interests. (I bought a fair share of cat-themed masks.)

+ The celebrity of Dr. Anthony Fauci. 🙂

+ Facetiming with my mom daily when I was quarantining from her… and continuing with our daily Facetimes today, even though we see each other regularly.

+ Starting a Marco Polo group with book club.

+ After the Marco Polo group devolving, continuing with regular check-ins on Marco Polo with Mikaela. I feel like we’re closer than ever!

+ The way going to the grocery store in March and April felt apocalyptic with empty shelves, signs limiting purchases, one-way aisles, and a loudspeaker cautioning people to social distance.

+ The turmoil of making decisions—should I see this friend, go to that place? Everything feeling like a moral dilemma.

+ Critiquing other people’s Instagrams and judging what they were doing.

+ Worrying about how I would likely be judged whenever I posted about a hair appointment or spending time with friends (even if I social distanced).

+ The utter failure of our governor during this pandemic: no statewide mask mandate, reopening way too early and too much at once, a brutally slow vaccine rollout (that didn’t even include teachers until Biden stepped in).

+ The stories my brother told me about my nephews attempting virtual school. (It did not go well; they are now doing in-person school.)

+ How weird it was to go for a walk on a beautiful spring day and see the entire parking lot at my apartment community full: there were no beaches or pools or amusement parks to visit.

+ Not getting Covid (or being completely asymptomatic if I did have it, which is just WILD to think about).

It’s been a weird year, one I never expected to live through. In some ways, it’s been a really great year for me. Working from home and limiting social engagements has done WONDERS for my mental health, and I haven’t had to interact with my social anxiety much. I’ve remained healthy all year, not even a head cold to worry about. I’ve allowed myself to feel the full spectrum of all my feelings: despair and joy and hopelessness and hopefulness all mingling together. Am I ready for normal life to slowly resume? Yes and no. I am excited to travel again and go to restaurants with my friends and be in public places without worrying about contracting Covid. But this time of slowness and staying home and a limited number of people in my bubble has been really healing for me.

I wonder a lot about what life will look like when we’re through this. Will it be business as usual? No more masks or limited seating or plastic partitions? Will this feel like a weird fever dream that we all collectively lived through? I err on the side that yes, life will go back to the way it used to be and we’ll all just remember 2020-2021 as a very weird time in the world. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe we’ll carry these changes we’ve made into a new reality. I certainly hope so, but I’m not holding my breath for it.

Here’s what I mainly want to remember, though: I want to remember all of the scientists who stepped up to tell us about the realities of Covid, even when the White House dismissed them. I want to remember the researchers who worked tirelessly to bring us an effective Covid vaccine less than a year into the pandemic. I want to remember the pure joy I felt when a teacher friend of mine finally got her Covid vaccine. I want to remember the politicians who worked hard for Covid relief, and never forget the ones who didn’t. I want to remember the relief I felt when Joe Biden and Kamala Harris were inaugurated, knowing that they would help us distribute the vaccine much more broadly than before. And I want to remember the way we came together globally to share stories and information and tips. I want to remember the people who reminded us that it’s okay for this to feel hard—because it is. I want to remember the hope I felt knowing I wasn’t in this alone.