Here in the soybean field we are less than 12 hours from evicting 2020. I will not be sad to see it go.
In our personal world, Hubby, Oakley, and I were pretty lucky. We stayed healthy (except for a rather stubborn bout of colitis in Oakley’s case) as did our families. No surprise expenses; no crises. For that we are truly grateful.
In the wider world, however…dear Mystery, when will this end? There’s the horror of COVID-19 unfolding in real time around us compounded by an administration that has no problems with the elderly and minority segments of the population dropping like flies while health care professionals and workers who come into contact with the general public lay their lives on the line daily. There’s the shock that so many of my fellow Americans have been taken in by conspiracy theories that defy any logic, and believe the lies of the ones who want to subvert the will of the people to keep the current occupant of the Oval Office installed. And how many want Civil War Part II. That frightens me.
Comfort came in rereading Emily Carr’s Hundreds and Thousands, a collection of her journals from the late 1930s into almost the end of World War II. She was an artist and writer who lived in Victoria, B.C. with her dogs, monkey, and a domestic rat or two. Her New Year’s entries remind readers that this high and wide pile of uncertainty and dread mixed with hope that we sit on this season is nothing new, especially the entries from war time. What will this world get itself up to next year, she asked more than once. She leaned on her faith, kept busy with her visual and written arts, and relied on the company of her sisters and fur-bearing companions to find peace in the tempest of war.
As I wait for the stroke of midnight to launch us into 2012, I find myself doing the almost the same thing. Phone calls to check in on the siblings and friends; journaling; walks with Oakley are what keep me sane these days.
So does the hope coming up over the horizon. In the not too distant future, Joe Biden and Kamala Harris will officially take their oaths of office. Since their election, they’ve shown more leadership than the current hot wet mess of an administration ever did on issues related to the pandemic.
We still have 20 days until they take office. Until then, we need to celebrate survival, or at least bask in relief that we’re still here. On behalf of Oakley, Hubby, and myself, I raise my glass to you, Gentle Readers, and wish you a calmer, prosperous 2021.