We whisked our brittle dry tree out the front door yesterday morning, easing my concerns over fire and - on a lesser note - finding pine needles in every corner of the house. The gusty winds ensured that a cascade of needles blew down on our entryway and on Rob as he lifted the tree onto the car for recycling. I picked pine needles out of his sweatshirt for several hours afterward, like a mama porcupine grooming her mate.
Leaving the house decorations and our fake tree in place, we're holding onto the holiday by our fingertips even as a part of me longs to be past it. The duty of being cheerful and of cooking traditional dishes and whipping up enthusiasm for gifts everyone picked out for themselves weighed on me for the last week. In addition, my PTSD from March 2020 has resurfaced with the advent of the omicron variant. Though grateful for vaccines and boosters that remove the risk for serious illness, I live in fear of school going remote, which began last time with the cancellations of games and seasons that have already begun again in the NFL, NBA and college football bowl games.
My mom and I will talk about postponing her visit today, and many of my friends and relatives either cancelled trips or had loved ones cancel theirs. Our extended families visited by Zoom again yesterday, which was welcome but slightly less miraculous and joyful than last year, when we were first forced into it. My workplace has also been affected, and I keep my fingers permanently crossed that the girls' swim season will conclude somewhat normally, that our girls will stay healthy and able to compete. Aden wonders if her training trip to California for club swim will go forward, and if it does, how they would quarantine sick teammates or return home if people were unable to leave.
We all carry these worries in different shapes or forms, and it's draining. My friend texted me a Washington Post article with the headline "Despair is not the Answer" but I haven't had the energy to read it yet. So I smile at the kids, rally for games at the kitchen table, ignore most headlines and try to conjure up my hope for future visits, future travel, future holidays without pandemic fears.
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