An end in sight

Last week the Governor of Utah, Spencer Cox, announced that every adult in my state will be eligible for a vaccine on March 24. Robert's first vaccine was March 16, almost a week in the rearview mirror at this point. After more than a year of living an odd and uncertain pandemic life, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Barring curveballs like out of control variants or unexpected vaccine shortages, life might be very close to normal by this summer. There might even be outdoor concerts, praise the Lord. I don't even want to talk about caveats like kids not being vaccinated yet because we are all so tired, and can't we just have nice things? 

What a year. We say that every year as the clock strikes midnight, but we're lying. Most years are just years, a little good, a little bad, better or worse for some than others. This year... was unique. For all of us. Not all bad, of course, but certainly worthy of remembering and likely referencing most every year for the rest of our lives. No matter how much we are all clamoring for a vaccine, almost everyone I know has already started looking over their shoulder saying, "I wonder if it's possible to keep working from home" or "I hope we keep trying to have a lot of family time when this is over" or "Maybe I should keep homeschooling my kids." Just kidding, I haven't heard anyone say that last thing.  

I wonder about a lot of things, but mostly how we move on from here. I wonder how we heal social divisions between maskers and anti-maskers, vaccinators and anti-vaxxers,  flatten the curve folks and herd immunity folks, each side thinking this pandemic revealed the worst about their fellow man and each holding their moral outrage closely, stroking it like a treasured family pet. I'm choosing to think as generously as possible about all of these camps, trying to remember that most people are good and trying to do what's right for themselves, their family, and their communities. Not everyone, certainly, but most people. I'm proud of how my own little family navigated this crisis, aided greatly by fortune and circumstance, but making choices that I stand behind nonetheless. If I could go back to last March, I would do everything pretty much exactly the same. I would have bought more toilet paper in February, but other than that, exactly the same. 

As of today, 554,885 people have died in the United States. 2.7 million people have died worldwide. Those numbers are so staggering, you can't even begin to hold the collective grief inside your head. I can't fathom that level of loss, and most days simply feel grateful that all my loved ones made it through this pandemic alive. 

My kids look different than they did at the beginning of the pandemic. I'm sad that their grandparents have not been able to witness those changes firsthand. There will be milestones every year of their lives, but there will also be an imperceptible gap where only Robert and I will remember the year they went from 2, 4, and 14 to 3, 5, and 15. No matter how many pictures I sent or stories I relayed, this year will be different for the grandparents, and that loss is worth grieving. 

Speaking of pictures, here are a few from the past few months since my last blog post. Future posts might include more friends, indoor events, and parties, which still feels surreal. My kids have heard vaccinations are rolling out and are begging for the children's museum, trampoline parks, and the aquarium. Take care, friends. Hope to see you soon. 

Looking at the Christmas star by the H rock in December

PJ Day at school

New year, new hair. 

Scrabble

Doctor Harper

 

Outdoor ice skating in Huntsville, UT

SwimKids

Sledding

Heading to FedEx, I tell Harper that it’s just past the thing that looks like a red star. She looks up and says, “You mean the thing that looks like a coronavirus?” She’s not wrong.

Valentine's Day

Mardi Gras. We had the best ay-home Mardi Gras party this year with music, dancing, pancakes, and bacon. 

Harper is going to be a flower girl for my brother's wedding in April. So cute! 

Celebrating cousin Zach's birthday. 

Indoor camping! 

I bought a special occasion mask for the wedding next month. Feels like a new era of life buying masks to intentionally see lots of people at once! 

My first vaccination is scheduled March 31, one week away. Don't miss your "shot" to get life back to normal! (that joke is so tired already, sorry, folks!)