If you’re reading this, I salute you. You have made it through a year in this sci-fi movie that’s not a movie, that’s your life and my life and everyone else’s life in the time of COVID-19. 

If your science-fiction life-year has been particularly horrific – I’m so sorry. I wish I could do or say something specific to lift each person who feels that he or she is barely crawling along right now. Please don’t be afraid or ashamed to reach out for support. Remember how Mr. Rogers used to talk about “the helpers”? Moments like this are what “the helpers”, and your community, are there for. 

If you are lucky enough not to be in crisis or grief right now – well, here we are living through history, team. You know what that means. Time to reflect. And I believe the appropriate reflection is, WTF?

Kidding, kidding, kidding. You’ve hashed that one out with your nearest and dearest and your therapist and the people in line for contact-free pickup at the liquor store for months now. My unscientific research shows absolutely no one has arrived at a really satisfactory answer. Because WTF implies ALL of it. Covid on the world. If ever there was an open-ended WTF, that is it. 

So let’s walk it back a little (or a lot). I made up a reflection and gave it a try on myself. If you’re so inclined you can give the questions below a whirl with a friend or partner, or on your own, to reflect beyond WTF on Covid a person at a time. What has the past year meant for you? Specifically……

What surprised you this year?

There are a LOT of contenders, but the biggest personal pie-in-the-face was being let go from my job. The way my former boss tossed this one at me would have made Gordon Gekko proud – 11 days notice, no severance. 

Did I mention I’m the primary breadwinner for my family? You can go ahead and insert that primal scream right here. 

So….yeah. Thankfully, oh so thankfully, I was incredibly lucky to land another job 4 months later. 

For the society-wide pie-in-the-face, it surprised me just how hard and how badly so many systems broke down, and how many many many people were left to hack their way through impossible situations…..sometimes for a looooong time. And the fact that I was surprised, honestly, shows me a lot about my own privilege. 

What kept you going?

You know how when shit gets real on Schitt’s Creek, Moira retreats to the closet? Well, when it hits the fan over here, I retreat into the backyard forest. 

Our yard is very big and grassy and open, except for the part where it’s covered with haunted-forest style trees and where nobody ever goes unless my daughter loses a soccer ball, my husband is clearing overgrowth or I’m about to lose it. It feels faraway and safe, like my own secluded island, crouched down out there among the pine needles. I have no idea what the neighbors think when they see me lurking under the haunted trees wrapped in a blanket, and whatever it is I don’t care, because if I’m in the retreat, I need to be there. 

My family leaves me alone when I retreat to the forest. Either that or they just can’t find me. Except, on one of my darkest pandemic days, my husband did. He came out and found me, just as I was emerging from my blanket under the pines. Which was like magic, because that was a day when I really needed someone to come find me. And assure me in a very real way that we had a path to the future, which is what he did next. 

My husband finding me that day as I was emerging from the trees. My daughter holding my hand as we walked to play dates full of chalk and water balloons. My musical neighbors’ outdoor concerts. Emails from friends with job leads, and group texts doing mental health check-in’s. Our parent-friends, offering us the grace to join their learning pod even when we didn’t think we could pay the fee. My mom, relocating on a few days’ notice to help us with virtual school. 

Moments like that are what kept me going over the past year. My people have gotten me through. 

My other magic trick of pandemic-coping – surprising absolutely no life coach or therapist ever – is making time for the stuff I love to do. The stuff that when I’m doing it, I feel purely me. Stuff like reading, writing, neighborhood walks, going to my grandma’s lake house, and ice skating. 

What has been unexpectedly funny?

DAMMIT, THIS IS THE HARDEST QUESTION ON HERE. The past year has pretty much been the opposite of a thigh-slapper. The best answer I’ve got is, the random and absurd moments in everyday life. Such as, the death of the mystery horse. 

One of our loveliest neighbors volunteers at the horse park that adjoins our neighborhood. One day she alerted me via text that one of the resident horses died unexpectedly, and that if we liked we could sign a card or contribute towards small gifts for the staff. 

This all came on the heels of a very long day for both husband and me. As I stumbled out the door clutching a few dollar bills, I said to him by way of explanation, “A horse died.”

He turned and stared at me. “WHO?”

I stared back. “A horse!”

And then we both started laughing. Not at the dear departed mystery horse, bless their soul, but because this is how hard-up for humor we are these days. 

What do you want to remember and take forward from this time?

Feeling my place in the network of caring hands. 

So many times this year I’ve felt like I’m part of a palpable people-chain, holding onto each other and holding each other up. 

Sometimes I am the person hanging there defeatedly, with a bunch of people holding onto me and refusing to let go. Sometimes I am holding up someone else, or just giving a squeeze that says hey, I’m here. 

I want to always feel my place in this network of hands. I want to keep dollar bills in my wallet to give away, and to show up for family and friends and neighbors, and call upon my people when I am struggling. And I want us to be celebrating absolutely anything we can, having fun, and being our quirky and beautiful selves along the way.

That’s my gift of passage from this sci-fi year. Feeling, and loving, the people chain.

What’s yours?