As a writer, as a mother, and as an individual, it’s hard for me not to notice and mark milestones. Patterns, too. For example, last year at the end of February, our family had a stomach bug rip through our entire household and unfortunately this week brought us the return of a similar sick fest. This is also the time of year when third quarter ends for Ben and the kids at school and I see my own end of Winter Term/start of Spring Term resulting in an excess of grading (which is super fun in the midst of caring for super sick kids, btw). But the real milestone that’s looming and feeling both heavy but remarkably hopeful is what I consider the anniversary of the start of our COVID-Year.
A year ago today, actually, my kids began their four-day Spring Break weekend and one of my dear friends and I were frantically trying to decide if we should still travel to Denver to attend an author event or not due to COVID-19 news sling-shotting around the country (spoiler alert: we did not). How little we knew then in terms of just how many plans would be cancelled or how long school would be out in the months that followed. How little we knew about the controversies and struggles that would come, much less the number of people who would be diagnosed, get sick and how so many would be lost due to this disease. How time would lose all meaning and make for both the shortest and longest days, weeks, months, and now year of our life. How is it already mid-March again? But also, haven’t we lived 10 years in the last 12 months? If gray hairs and worry lines are any indication, then yes, we have done just that but in the blink of a (tired) eye.
And yet, here we still are. Still marking the days, still doing our best to do our part by not making many plans (and keeping the ones we do make as safe as possible), and still masking up wherever we go. For 365 days, or 360 degrees if you’re following our trip around the sun as one of my friends likes to say, we have been in this and at this. Thankfully, mercifully, and sometimes frustratingly, we are are still here this whole year later happy at least because we have each other even as we mark what the experience and struggles have been for us.
Today, though, our family has a glimmer of hope, a sign of changes to come, as Ben received his first vaccine dose. He’s not the first in our immediate family to get one but we are so thankful his turn arrived. I haven’t been super worried and stressed about him getting this as schools here have found a way to keep open safely with masks and some protocol changes but it is still such a relief that educators are in the initial-ish round of shots in our community.
My hopes for a vaccine are quite different. I don’t meet any of the criteria to get a shot now or anytime soon, so instead I’ll just keep doing what I’ve been doing as we hope and pray the president was right in saying that all Americans who want a shot should be able to get one by the end of May. The thought of being able to go and do more with more confidence this summer than we’ve had at all in the last year is a lovely one, even if that is still months away at this point.
After all, if the last year has established anything, it is that time is a loose concept and we are much stronger and capable of navigating chaos than we ever knew.