Bittersweet

Preface: I have hesitated with posting this one.  I've had it in the queue for about three weeks as I've continued to tweak, delete, rewrite and delete some more.  It just felt preachy, pretentious, brag-y.  However, Avery had such a thoughtful, mature and profound conversation with me the other morning about 2020--speaking all of my own thoughts back to me nearly word for word--and I realized--maybe someone needs to hear this (also, maybe I've done my job with him concerning 2020 after all!).  He shared with me that while multitudes seem to concentrate on how awful 2020 was, he really wants to remember the good stuff.  He said he's learned a lot and God has opened his eyes and he doesn't want to live in the negative.  Whoa, right? 

I also changed the title to this.  Originally it was entitled, "The Upside of the Downside."  I thought it was a good title, but it sounded, well, Pollyanna-ish at the same time.  After receiving a heartfelt gift from a friend however, and given the toll so many events in 2020 have taken on our hearts, "Bittersweet" just seems more apropos.  Remembering the good in spite of the bad--and recognizing that even in the midst of utter chaos, it's still okay to acknowledge the good.    

(Please bear with any grammatical errors.  I've tried to find all the tenses and change them, but I'm certain I missed at least a few!)

So, here goes.

It’s certainly no exaggeration 2020 was an absolute shitshow. A real dumpster fire of a year.  A dumpster set on fire as it careened downhill during a disastrous flood kind of shitshow.

For so very many people, it was exceedingly worse than for others. For those individuals and families, my heart is continually broken. 

I'm not even talking just politics and Covid; there were hurricanes literally on top of hurricanes, wildfires, deaths of celebrated athletes and celebrities--deaths of beloved family members--the stock market crash, shocking worldwide events--the list could easily go on.  Oh, and let's not forget the murder hornets!

Shawn and I rung in 2020 in the ER when I had a heart attack, then life as we personally knew it in February came to a screeching halt in March, as it did for the majority of the entire world, when Covid became a scary reality.  The original projection of only two weeks to 'flatten the curve' turned into nine incredibly long months, and the timeline continues to be in a constant state of flux.  At the time, I thought to myself not much would change for us--we're a homeschool family, after all!  And then--everything and anything changed.  One week we were at co-op; the next week, co-op was officially canceled for the remainder of our school year. Just as happened for kids around the globe, our kids didn’t get to say goodbye to tutors and friends, there wasn’t any closure for them (or us parents). We--co-op parents--scrambled to master apps like Marco Polo and Zoom, hoping to give our kids any sort of contact with each other, clinging to any semblance of normal for them, even holding socially distant playdates in our driveways.  The teachers from Avery's independent co-op finished classes through Zoom, but there still wasn't any tangible sort of school-year ending for the kids (even homeschooled kids still expect end of the year parties!).  On a high note, while social media and the news overflowed with those lamenting missed vacations, special events and various parties, Avery was able to have his first ever (and autism-social anxiety-sensory friendly) birthday 'party' this year, thanks to a few socially distant driveway visits from friend!  Nearly all of our own specialist appointments transitioned to telehealth (yay for not having to drive into the city!), the boys’ various therapies were deemed nonessential (best to not get me started on that one) and church moved to our living room, live streamed from YouTube.  Extracurricular activities were discontinued, and as masks became mandatory, even just going to the grocery store became dangerous. We could no longer eat in restaurants, and ridiculously long drive thru lines are now a sign of the times.  Having misunderstood the Stay at Home orders, Avery became anxious about playing outside in our own yard, fearing he would be arrested.  His anxiety skyrockets each time I have to go to the hospital or the doctor, more so than it typically would, and he's filled with dread over the environments and people Shawn and Noah are exposed to through work and errand running.  No longer able to foray through Target, play in parks, peruse the library stacks, attend our co-ops, and visit museums and with friends, we struggled with how to fill our days.  "What to do over Easter break," became, "What to do with all of our free time at home for the next nine months."  I’ll be the first to have some strong words with anyone judging another mama for allowing “too much” screen time. We were in survival mode, y’all.  Oh wait--we still are!  Whoops.   

My introverted self became perilously apathetic while my extroverted children downright withered to their cores. My own already fragile grief and depression worsened even further.  I burrowed deeper into my hole, nearly shutting down--and wishing I could.  While the lockdown was exactly what my damaged mental health craved, it dangerously conflicted with what I really needed, with what was truly best for me. 

But this isn't at all how I want my kids to remember 2020!  They will no doubt look back and remember this year as a difficult one which certainly tested us.  They will most likely tell their own children tales of the TP Shortage of 2020.  I hope they will also tell stories about their mom dressing concrete animals up in masks, Halloween costumes, Christmas displays, and different arrangements around the front yard.  But here's what I want my kids to really remember--we persevered.  In spite of everything that happened, and is still happening, we have not thrown our hands up and just quit (even when I've wanted to).  

We are surviving. 

As it happens, we aren’t just surviving, we’ve thriving--I mean, we're doing okay. 

In many ways, we're better off than we were in February. 

Though many days it feels like an uphill climb, we're still actively forging that climb.

We are one of the fortunate--blessed--families who are making it through this.  We’ve been reminded of what—and even more paramount, Who (and who)—is important.  With the majority of our lives on hold, we haven't had to hurry or rush; we've been able to really slow down and take stock of everything, and everyone, around us.  We’ve able to spend more time together as a full family and as a result, we’ve grown closer.  We’ve healed in many ways, growing individually and as a family unit.  We’ve been able to pour into each other.  We have learned new things (this is where I'm supposed to brag about a new hobby developed, but here's the honest truth--there's not even an old hobby, although we are all--Shawn included--trying our hands at knitting, perhaps in vain, in order to help both littles learn!), cultivating little projects here and there.  Our learning surpassed the concrete, as we've all had too much time to think, journal, pray and talk with each other. I’ve clung to gratitude and hope, desperate to find my joy again.  I'm still not okay by a long shot, but I'm getting there.  Much to my delight, I've watched as friends have added to their families.  With a grateful nod to social media, I've been able to share in joys across the country (that said, I've also been able to comfort friends in their grief and sadness).  I've read countless stories of people making the best of postponed weddings and canceled receptions, stories about new non-profits--and just plain old individuals striking out on their own--popping up to fill the needs of others, stories about anonymous benefactors who just want others to be okay.  Look for the helpers.  Shawn’s work from home schedule has given him valuable time, sweet moments, and special memories with the boys, many of which he would not have had if working full time in the office.   Even considering 2020's many bumps, we did successfully finish last school year and excitedly begin this year; and though it seemed unlikely, we were able to resume our co-op days in person!  Noah has decided to start cooking twice a week, Avery is working on gaining independence around the neighborhood, while Ezra learned how to ride a bike.  Particularly on the hard days, we’ve pushed ourselves to find the humor and the good.  We’ve coined our own phrases, shouting things like “Mask up, Buttercup!” as we exit our car, even while Ezra bemoans how much he hates the "nonavirus".  Avery's specialists have all finally 'met' Elijah, and all the cats have made appearances in various appointments and classes as well.  We've tried to spread fun and laughter by dressing up and arranging my lawn statues in the front yard, putting our Christmas lights up early, writing notes to friends and neighbors and even strangers, and writing chalk messages in the driveway.  We've done more for others because we can.  We are still attempting to be the good.

Bear in mind we are still very firmly and extremely far out, waaaaaaayyyy out, in Left Field, but it's our Left Field.  It's right where we belong.

So yeah, 2020 has been a mess, but man, we’re coming out of this, and we’re going to be just fine. 

However, just in 2021 gets any ideas, here's a reminder....