It’s beginning to look a lot like…
December 1st. The beginning of the last month of a very hard year. I know I haven’t felt the full weight (not even close) of 2020’s grief — I imagine that wave will hit us sometime after we’re safely on the other side. But in the meantime, I’m holding tightly to the quiet joys that have visited us this year, despite everything else. I hope there is some joy (quiet or loud!) fortifying you these days, too.
Joys like stumbling upon a tiny, battery-lit Christmas tree on Sea Street, while out walking with Grace. Or catching the kids holding hands, wandering about the yard, deep in imagination. Joys like opening a thick envelope of school photos, taken from a distance in the new park behind the school. Or lighting candles for a tiny Thanksgiving dinner at home, and realizing we’re at a phase in life where lighting dinner candles can be a thing (and likely not result in an emergency). Or finding that one missing sock, tucked under Birdie’s chin while he naps in the sunroom. Joy in listening to Nicky rattle off all kind of facts about turtles, while riding his scooter with “one leg and one arm only.”
I want to remember these parts of 2020 too. I want to remember that we’ve been lucky, even when we’ve been scared. That we’ve been safe, even when we’ve been anxious. That we’ve had real, genuine fun… even though we’ve missed our family and friends dearly. I want to remember that we got through all of this together — regardless of the distance.
Thinking of you, friends. Always am, always will be.
Also On Tap for Today:
- Where to find community fridges in/around Boston from Eater Boston (to pick up or drop off food to share)
- Probably should make some of these cookies… salty/sweet/yes plz
- Pretending it’s spring… (it was 62 degrees out at 4 AM when our very cute, but very nocturnal puppy woke me up for the day…)
What do you want to remember about this year?
