I’ve been preaching positivity in 2020 because it’s been proven that the ability to adapt is a key component of happiness. And if 2020 has taught us anything, it’s that adaptation is necessary. I don’t need to go down the litany of examples of how things have changed. We can all feel it.
I’ve been relatively quiet about the fact that 2020 has been a good year for me. I’m mindful of the people who have contracted COVID-19, including my own friends and family. There have been over a million deaths around the world. Almost a quarter of the fatalities have been in America alone, surpassing all other countries and showing no signs of slowing down.
For all the quality time I’ve had with my family, all the outdoor adventures and gobbling up everything in my Netflix queue, the old world started haunting me. I had embraced the fact that most of my favorite places were closed and that traveling would have to wait, but that’s when I believed people would follow CDC guidelines and squash this thing, like so many countries have been doing. I thought that like me, people couldn’t wait to escape the summer heat in a dark movie theater, or jump on a plane to explore a place they’s never seen. Come Ocober, I’m here thinking, “No? Just me?”
Make no mistake, I’m still out and about. I don’t live in fear because I follow CDC guidelines. But working from home while my son is home-schooling is tough. Even with a teacher for a husband. Even though he’s suportive and very involved. It’s just not ideal.
I also miss my friends. I miss spas. I miss going to spas with my friends, which explains these photos. In January, when we were just beginning to hear whisperings of the coronavirus in the news, my friends and I luxuriated in a plush resort in Virginia. There was a steaming, heated pool that was reminiscent of the Blue Lagoon in Reykjkavic. There were elaborate dinners, Chamagne toasts and beauty treatments.
But also? My friend Sarah signed us up for archery and axe throwing because, well, you’d just have to know her. She once said that she liked camping because it’s a “shock to your senses” – as if that’s ever a positive. One of the things that made this spa trip special, was that she invited two other girls that I hadn’t met. Having moved to Richmond from Los Angeles a few years ago, I relish meeting new people. The more I meet, the better I’m able to curate a nice social circle. It’s hard to put in the work when you’re a working mother with some serious hobbies. The girls were sweet, and we clicked as if we were in junior high. Coronavirus swept in soon after, putting a halt to new friendships. There’s just a placeholder for now, in the form of social media.
Even friends I’ve had for decades are circling a small orbit in a galaxy, far far away. Before coronavirus, I just called it the suburbs. So, I’m mourning the milestones I didn’t celebrate with them. I’m mourning that trip to Charleston and Savannah that our family never took. I’m mourning the new friends I haven’t yet gotten to know . I’m mourning Obama. I’m mourning eucalyptus steam rooms and deep tissue massages.
I look back on that weekend in January, where the four of us weren’t moms, or wives, or attorneys or writers. We were women. Innocently jumping on luggage carts and taking ridiculous photos. Laughing the way you do before you realize that a gobal pandemic is going to sweep in and change the world as we know it.
These photos are a reminder that eventually, things will get better. You have photos like this too. Take a good look, and feel free to mourn with me. But never lose sight of the fact that these photos are also glimpses into our collective future. Whatever we used to do, we will do again. I’m not sure when, but we’ll get there.
Be safe, friends.