It’s 6:14 p.m. on New Year’s Eve. By the time I finish writing this missive, it will likely be closer to 7 p.m. And what does all of that add up to? About just five short hours until the end of 2020. If the year were a person, I’d tell it not to let itself get hit you-know-where on the way out the door.
I’m ready for 2020 to be done. I learned a lot this year and it wasn’t totally horrible, as I suspect it was for others. But, it can go now. In fact, I don’t even want to celebrate the year’s successes or the lessons I’ve learned. I just – really, really – want the year to go away.
As I enter 2021, it occurs to me that the one good thing 2020 did for me was to lower my expectations. I’ve seen the Facebook memes about 2020 vs. 2021. I’ve even shared one of them (and I only ever share posts about pets either being lost or needing to be adopted). But as 2021 now beckons, I am content with not having expectations. Instead, I am ready to embrace whatever comes my way. After losing my mom three years ago, close family members developing cancer two years ago and then 2020, it just seems like I’ve now weathered some of the toughest storms I need to weather… at least for a few years. So, I’m not looking for any great new challenges or achievements in 2021. I’ll take what I get and I’ll do my best to be happy.
As we enter 2021 at our little homestead, our evening is filled with quiet celebration. Our cats are now nearly full integrated. Twister goes to his room at night and gets let out in the morning. But the rest of the day? They’re figuring it out. Meadow is still scared sometimes and hisses; Twister is still a little too enthusiastic in his approach. But, they’re figuring out it out and becoming exponentially easy for their human parents.
We are planning a dinner of Gulf shrimp – I married a Louisiana boy – and harvested tomatoes, garlic and basil from our garden this past summer. Later, there’s a bottle of champagne, some cheese, fruit, and a small chocolate cake with which to ring in the new year. And somewhere well before midnight, this little household will all be asleep.
Tomorrow, we start what truly feels like a new chapter. As more and more people get vaccinated and we patiently wait our turn, the pandemic will slowly dissipate and will hopefully be gone by summer. My niece will marry the love of her life just before July 4th and my husband will finish his next Ironman in later July. I’m planning on running a half marathon in October to celebrate my return to physical fitness. And next holiday season? I’ll likely be in New Orleans for Christmas and right back here to ring in 2022.
In between, I am sure there will be moments of pure joy and love. There are likely going to be moments of frustration, pain and anger. There will be a lot of laughter, I hope only a few tears and a year’s worth of memories made.
I’ve learned a lot in 2020. I learned that my husband is truly my life’s partner because we could go through a pandemic and self-isolation for nearly 10 months and come out stronger than ever. I’ve learned I’m an imperfect cat mom, but I can be loved unconditionally even in my imperfect state. I’ve reaffirmed that my sisters and my best friends are really, well, my best friends and I’m privileged to have such phenomenal people in my life even if we have to be virtual for awhile. I’ve learned to keep my sense of humor and to improve my sense of compassion and empathy for others who are hurting. But mostly? I’ve learned that life is not guaranteed and there isn’t a happiness ration that each human gets each year. I’ve also learned that if there was, I was still probably given more than my share.
Going into 2021, I’ve learned that life is best lived simply. So I enter the year with no expectations for amazing moments. Instead, I will enjoy what I’m given. I once told a friend who was about to experience an 18-month leadership fellows program that I had just completed that the course was going to be challenging, yet it wasn’t a course where you had to keep an open mind. Instead, I said, keep an open heart. This year, that’s all I plan to do… keep my heart wide open.
The Yuppie Homesteader 