Welp. Here we are, day 45.
Feels like SO much longer. I’ve run the gamut of the grief process….because, let’s face it…it’s not being dramatic to say we are all grieving in some way or another during this:
Some of us are angry.
Some of us are in denial.
Some of us are depressed.
Some of us are getting around to acceptance. Slowly.
I’m not sure where I am. It changes daily. We were supposed to be in Disney right now, as I write this. A vacation partially funded through an incredibly generous gift given to us after the absolutely abysmal 2019 we had. Bridgie was supposed to turn 4 amidst Princess visits and fun cartoon rides. Instead we Zoom called with the family and I made the ugliest homemade cake ever created.
Not only that, I dreamed of taking a vacation to Prince Edward Island since I was 8 years old and became all out obsessed with all things Anne of Green Gables. I FINALLY bought that plane ticket to celebrate my 40th birthday on the island.
And that’s not going to happen.
I was invited to speak at an End Well conference in L.A. this fall.
That’s probably off.
So, grieving. Yes. All the while recognizing DAILY how fortunate we are to be healthy, fed, clothed, and alive right now. It’s such a jumble of emotions that at the end of the day I just feel TIRED. That’s the best explanation I have.
Most of my summer weddings have rescheduled. Their plans held in a sort of stasis. Guest lists getting slashed. Everything being pared down to the absolute essentials.
My Class of 2020 Seniors didn’t really have a senior year experience to speak of. No prom. No graduation ceremony. I can’t imagine what that must feel like. You work your whole childhood towards that moment of freedom and accomplishment…..only to have it ripped away. It makes my heart sad. I love being a part of celebrating senior accomplishments.
I, like everyone I suppose, am just OVER this. Over it.
But, I don’t necessarily want the “before” back exactly the way it was…well…before.
I want to LEARN something from this.
I want to be better from it.
Here at home we are making some decisions that could radically affect the next two years and then the next 50 (more on that later as things evolve….how is THAT for vague-blogging?! Guess you’ll have to just keep reading……HA!)
Here at home we are working on potty training for Bridget, navigating at-home-schooling (not a fan, gotta say)….trying not to kill each other.
I never realized how LOUD everyone was when they ate. My god.
I haven’t written A THING…..I can’t. My brain is broken, it seems. Part of the Covid effect on my mood.
THANKFULLY, my husband is still working full time from home. I am putting in part time check-in’s here and there with my job in Oregon…..and restrictions on shooting are loosening a bit so Type A should be back in full force soon (here’s hopin!). We are okay. I know other people are not okay, so it makes my mixed jumble of feelings every day worse. A sort of “survivors guilt”, somewhat. I know lots of people that this is devastating financially. And it seems no help is on the way. I sit with that and that’s when the anger comes. It shouldn’t be like this.
and I miss a lot……
I miss shooting so much.
I miss visiting people.
I miss going into a store and shopping without having an all out panic attack
I miss knowing what day of the week it was and having a SCHEDULE
I miss stores having Cherry 7Up in stock (who knew that would be something to become scarce. Like, WTF universe?!)
I miss looking forward to things
But, I do also believe that soon this will be in the past. We will emerge from our fortresses, bleary eyed and having forgotten how to properly drive a car. We’ll walk around on our shaky baby legs, unsure of how to proceed.
But it’ll be in the past. Someday.
Someday, all of this will be a story. And that’s what keeps me getting up every day.
