Two Years Ago

The memory popped up in my FB feed: two years ago this month, the world began shutting down.

 

I think we’ve all learned more than we ever expected in the months and years that came next. The Heather of March 2022 is not the Heather of 2020. This Heather is not only older— which would have happened regardless due to the simple passing of time— but also, I think, shaped by the events of the past two years. Not all the changes of the past two years have been good. I can admit that. I have to work harder to shake off my tendency to insulate and eschew the company of others than I have at any other point in my adult life. The fact is, introverts like me have excelled at learning how to navigate this new era of delivery and pick up and less people in our space. I wouldn’t say I’m proud of this fact, but I’ve only been in an actual store maybe fifteen times in the past two years. Not to brag or anything .

But there has been good.  already know I’ve got a Pollyanna-like personality, but even the stoic among you must admit this much: the level of appreciation you have for the once-mundane is elevated when you’ve been denied it.

 

Like everyone else, we sat out months of postponements and cancellations. Some went wildly in our favor; our college kids came home, and, with nowhere to be and nothing else to do, we basked in a season that I will remember through rose-colored glasses for the rest of my life. Bonfires and jam sessions, evenings spent talking, watching movies, playing games, and otherwise being together. Any mother of kids who are circling the nest with their newly-proven wings can tell you that I was basking in the kind of unexpected blessing that one only dreams of.

The biggest hurts in that odd spring were a radically abbreviated symphony season and the closure of our local library system. And this, really, is what I’ve been thinking on as we have minced our way past this strange social anniversary: have I remembered to be as grateful for those simple things in the months since their return as I was when they were finally an option again? Have I held onto that feeling of joy that surged through me the first time I saw my kids finally back in their seats amongst the other musicians? Have I continued to appreciate the feeling of browsing stacks, of meandering through the maze of shelves and collecting titles to haul home?

Truly, I think I have. I was always aware that my life as a middle class American was blessed with a freedom rarely seen throughout history. These days, I’m even more conscious of that fact that God has allowed me to live in a truly remarkable time and place. He has a purpose in this season in our world, and in my family. It’s been a ride, to be sure, but here we all are. Two years on. Aware of some of what He has brought to our attention, but learning still. This story isn’t over. I’m not even sure the next chapter has started, to be honest. But I’m hooked on the plot line and know there is more refinement to be done in my life, and the lives of many more.