I missed posting last week; both in failing to write a weekly update post as I have been doing, and also realizing that I missed the act of writing, reflecting, holding myself accountable. I enjoy the act of reflective writing; something I should remember going forward.
1. The past week was Christmas, and like so many things in 2020, it looked a lot different. In years past, I often think of my schedule between Thanksgiving and Christmas as a sprint, trying to figure out how to get Christmas shopping done while having multiple Christmas parties feeling a couple evenings a week for several weeks and multiple family Christmases often filling each weekend, all in the midst of normal work and routine life obligations. This year, without any of those events, the pace was much different. I suppose in some ways the less frantic nature of the past month was nice, allowing more time to savor certain elements of the season I always enjoy. Yet, that time is also a double-edged sword, permitting time to reflect on all this year has wrought.
The dichotomy seemed to permeate our Christmas experience this year. Last weekend, still unsure exactly what Christmas would look like, we decided to play Santa and deliver our presents to our family (thereby avoiding the hassle of shipping). It made for a long day of driving down to Noblesville, then up to Fort Wayne, then Lansing, before stopping by my sister's in Grand Ledge (a small suburb of Lansing) before heading back home to old Middlebury). But there was a certain novelty in it that was fun, and since we are used to driving a lot to go to Zoos, visit family, and take other trips that we have not done, it also felt a little like revisiting an old, comforting activity.
Christmas itself perfectly encapsulated the dichotomy experience. Our time at home with Maia, our routines of wrapping presents, leaving cookies and milk for Santa (and a written note this year as well), rushing down Christmas morning, opening presents, and then cooking a big breakfast - are all things we have done for several years now. Those routines, those traditions, made the holiday feel normal - providing that same comfort of love, joy, and cozy feelings it has always provided for us. On the flip side, we video called with my parents to watch them open presents and got together briefly with Jackie's mom to exchange gifts.
While these were still small moments of happiness, they came with a cloud of heaviness. Because those experiences were different, they serve as a reminder of why things are different (COVID), and thus as a reminder of the pain this year has brought. Celebrating Christmas without my father-in-law is, simply, painful. There's no way to diminish that loss for our family and how it permeates the whole experience. Being able to celebrate Christmas with my folks, despite its different feel this year, carries an element of relief and gratitude, knowing how close things were to be different, for the very same reasons. The tension between those two emotional states (grief and gratitude), while wrapped up in a holiday that has always meant so much, for us, about spending time with family, is, for lack of better wording, a complicated ball of emotions and thoughts that is difficult to unravel and understand.
But, ultimately, those two emotions - grief and gratitude - is where I think we have sat for the past couple weeks to be honest. My guess is that is where we will continue to be for awhile.
2. On the health front, the wheels have come off for me. While things have stayed on my mind about what my goals are (I have a specific goal in mind for my birthday in March, as well as by next December when I hope we take a big family vacation), I've done little to stay on track. I've always been a bit of an emotional eater, food serving as a comfort in mostly unhealthy ways. So, I need to refocus myself, continue to think about what helps me (writing, for accountability) and what hurts me (I have trouble avoiding food, particularly sweets, if they are around - so make less and buy less, which may be easier now that the holidays have passed). Its a marathon, not a sprint.
3. Perhaps for similar reasons (the ball of emotions), I had trouble focusing as much to continue my reading - it is a weird juxtaposition, the more stressed I am, the more difficult it is for me to focus myself for reading, but the more I need to for the relief and peace reading often brings me. In any event, I finally made it through Barack Obama's A Promised Land, and continue to work my way through A People's Future of the United States, a collection of speculative short stories that I will likely finish this week. If so, I will end up at 88 books this year and just short of 30,000 pages, both the most I've read since keeping track (there is a good chance I read more in college when such was "my job"). Gives me something to think about as I work on my year in reading post, as well as my goals for next year.
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