2020

 I learned about grief this year.

I know, I know, 2020 has been hard for everybody but it's much deeper than that.  

This is us, just a couple of days into the shut down in March.  Every year, I go in to see the cherry blossoms at the Tidal Basin.  It's a rite of spring for me and one of my most favorite, anticipated days of the year.  I felt very nervous going but I purposefully went when the bloom wasn't at it's peak and on a weekday. How little we knew of what this year would bring.  

This summer, I got a middle of the night phone call from my sister.  She was frantic because her husband was missing.  He was eventually found but it would never been the same again.  She called in the early morning hours with the news that he had been found dead.  I can't even type it now without crying.  He is dead and it's all broken.  

Heber and I cried at what was lost and what now remained ahead. I have watched my sister, my closest friend, as she has navigated widowhood while raising her five children.  It's like nothing I ever expected could be.  It's been like watching my absolute worst nightmare come to life.  

I've had bad things happen in my life.  I've faced sadness and deep darkness.  Somehow that all seemed fixable.  A shift here or there, a new medicine or a change could make significant improvement but this is one of those that is unfixable.  

Now, it's mid-September.  The kids are entering their third week of distance learning.  Death statistics, fear, masks are just part of our lives now.  Normalcy is a long past memory now.  My hopes are significantly smaller now.  

I've gone about my life.  I've been trying to be a loving mom, to face these new COVID challenges with as much positivity as I could muster.  But when I sit down to talk to someone, I can't contain the sadness.  

It's sad.  I'm sad.  

We all talk about life going back to normal after COVID.  When the vaccine comes or a cure magically comes together.  The thing is, that it's already broken.  The kids going back to school or being able to eat in a restaurant doesn't really fix this.  

What is broken here can't be fixed.  

This is what is in my heart.  I long to write a happy post about carefree adventures but all I see is heaviness.