Well. We made it. I made it. To the end of a year full of both upheaval and stagnation. Of uncertainty. Disenchantment. Rage. Of hope and love. Disquiet and quiet. All words that pack a punch this time but could probably be recounted at the end of every year. Because life is always a mixed bag. There are very few moments in my lifetime — especially in my adulthood — that I can look back on and say were experienced with pure elation. And even the moments of joy were in whole days that had both good and bad. Serenity and insanity.
Hmm. Those are good words for this year. There’s a coziness about holing up with your cat and a peacefulness that settles on a life stilled. But also a malaise — something disconcerting that you can’t always name but leaves you feeling spent and sad and unsure.
When I started this project, I had no idea it would take me through the end of my eleven year relationship. Or that it would take me through the trials and tribulations of teaching in a pandemic… I had no idea it would take me through a pandemic at all. And while I knew it was an election year, I had no idea riding that wave was going to be as chaotic and traumatic as it was (is). The civil unrest, the vitriol spewing from hubris, the inhumane, and the once-heroes (I’m looking at you, JKR)… The death of RBG. It was all a lot.
And it was all complimented with struggles closer to home. Living on my own for the first time. Feeling guilty about leaving someone I love so much. Trying to keep my cat healthy, or at least comfortable and happy. Trying to stay healthy myself, both physically and mentally.
It’s been a trip. And to my earlier point: I had no idea when I started this project that it would see me through all of this. I’d intended it to help me find the meaning in the mundane — the reasons buried in the little bits of our days and lives. Reasons for trying. For joining. For being….
Actually, if I’m being perfectly honest, I thought it would force me to live life a little more fully. To not let any day be mundane. I thought it would motivate me to rack up experiences and to move myself forward. But looking back, most of my pictures are of my cat.
I didn’t go skydiving like I’d planned (and paid for). I didn’t move to New York like I’d intended. I didn’t get to see David Sedaris speak in Ithaca or attend BookCon at the Jorgensen Center. I didn’t get to see To Kill a Mockingbird on Broadway like I’d wanted to. Or spend some time in Boston with my brother over the summer. I guess you could say COVID stole these things from me. But I don’t want to look at it that way. I don’t want to dwell on what wasn’t. And I’m not going to say something cheesy like “instead I’ll just be thankful for what was.” Nah. I’m not feeling that either. I think I just want to move forward, taking stock of what I’ve learned this year.
I’ve learned my cat is my soulmate.
I’ve learned I love to dance… This isn’t surprising. I’ve always enjoyed a good reckless romp, jumping about. What’s surprising is how much I dance on my own.
I’ve learned I’m happier on my own.
I’ve learned I can write a book!
I’ve learned writing is just as important to me as teaching, even if nothing ever comes of it.
There are other things, too, but for now I’ll stop on this note: This picture project — this photo journal — didn’t work out as intended, but hardly anything in life ever does. What it did do is give me an opportunity to reflect. On me. On my life.
And hey, it also provided a nice log of what a shit show this year was. Maybe in a hundred years, some author will mine archives and blogs and articles and somehow find this and use it to help them write a historical fiction novel LOL. So there’s that.
And there’s also the smile it brought to my face as I looked back at all the pictures tonight. So I think I’ll keep going with it.
See you in the new year 🙂
Sunday
Look at my little boat swimming in his ocean of comforter.
Monday
Sammy is watching me get his fluids ready and he disapproves.
Tuesday
We got some snow and I had to shovel, but I’ve left my shovels on the porch all year (I don’t have a garage… I suppose I could keep them in the basement…) and this vine didn’t think it was necessary for me to ever use these again. It broke my heart a little that I had to clip some of it to get a shovel loose, but I let it continue to creep into the house siding. The way I see it, it has more of a right to be here than I do. And I like it. It’s got spunk.
Side note: What would the last week of 2020 be without a COVID scare? I let Brian come over again to visit Sammy because, you know, we don’t know how much time he has left. And I thought it would be safe. Brian’s mom is a TA at a school that’s been closed longer than we have, and the rest of the family hasn’t really been out and about. Plus, I trust Brian. But a little while after he left, I received a call from him informing me that his brother tested positive. He hadn’t told anyone he wasn’t feeling well or that he was getting tested. He works from home, but his girlfriend doesn’t… I don’t know exactly where he got it or when. But now it’s a waiting game to see if Brian or I develop symptoms. Brian got a rapid test that are back negative, but we’re unclear on the timing of things and they do live in the same friggin’ house, so we’ll see…
I’ve be so careful. I’ve barely seen anyone, and I had to have multiple convos with the school in order to stay home… And this is my undoing?? Letting Brian visit Sam? Are you fucking kidding me??
And I feel bad… because now Brian won’t be able to come back over until his brother is well again and fourteen more days have gone by and Brian tests negative. And by then, Sammy might… well… I don’t want to think about it.
And I’m also pissed as hell. Because I’m immunosuppressed! I know it’s not Brian’s fault really, but he put me at risk. And that sucks.
Wednesday
My new coffee maker (courtesy of my mom) is lit. I can time it to make coffee in the morning before I even come downstairs. Game. Changer. Her name is Smegan (The brand is Smeg) and she’s British (because Smeg sounds cooler in a British accent), so I set her clock to military time.
Thursday
I will never get enough of this face.