I don’t know about you, but I rolled up into 2020 with a swagger and a smile, thinking…this is going to be an epic year. Back then my definition of “epic” was filled with nothing but good intentions. You could even call it childlike giddiness and innocence.
I never knew I would move away from Portland without having a chance to say goodbye to a single soul after living there for six years.
I felt like I was skipping town after botching a bank robbery. Except that when I skipped town, the world was cloaked in silence and isolation. We drove through snowy mountain passes, spotless highways, and empty hotel parking lots in a moving van…just us and the cats in a strange new world.
I never knew I would learn how to do ballet with a mask. But here I am, pirouettes and all. Before 2020 I would have thought I was about to be robbed on the sidewalk when a masked hooded person approached me. Now harmless people are picking up dog poop, looking like assassins, ninjas, and gangsters.
I never know I would become closer than ever to my home and to my husband. But, that happened too.