This time last year, we were prepping for a big Thanksgiving with my husband’s family, and a quick trip right after to Las Vegas.
We stayed busy. We saw EVERYONE. Hugs all around.
And I got to see the Grand Canyon for the first time.
We came home exhausted.
This year? Well, we’re exhausted. We’re in the middle of self-quarantining for fourteen days, so that, if we’re still healthy and they’re still healthy and none of us has had any known COVID exposures or symptoms, we can see my parents over the holiday next week.
Just my parents. No large gatherings. I don’t even know if we’ll make the traditional dinner.
Yes, so far, the holidays feel very different this year. But, as I look forward to next week, whatever we end up doing with ourselves, I am thankful.
I’m thankful that my family is healthy, and that I’m healthy. I’m thankful to have money coming in, and food on my table, and a roof over my head, and books. I’m thankful for books, always. I’m thankful to have time to write and to rest. I’m thankful for the sun in the morning and the moon at night and for a world that just keeps turning even in the midst of chaos and crisis.
2020 hasn’t been the year I anticipated, but it’s the year I got, and I’ve tried to be as grateful and happy as possible for every little thing that’s good. And where I can, I’ve tried to make good things happen.
Which is why it’s November 18th and I’ve already put up Christmas decorations.
No regrets. It was the right choice. What can I say? This year’s been all about finding joy even in the darkest of times.
It’s been hard. It will likely continue to be hard. But I’m here and I’m healthy and my loved ones are, too. And in 2020, that’s plenty to give thanks for.