2020 Hindsight-The Milestone Year

I wrote these words last year, when I was watching ice melt on a fountain (The Josephine Shaw Lowell Memorial Fountain). The words were a fairly common sentiment, and the sentiment has been said much better by great teachers and writers, but I wrote them down because they were like homework or feedback from me. The results were not good writing, but proof that writing and other forms of creation come from individual experience and assessment. They are a reflection of the human experience before they are ever framed, published, critiqued. I didn’t realize I would need to take my own advice a year after writing this.

The much anticipated end to 2020 is finally here. Many people are looking forward to the end of this year, it has been a very tough year. But, for some of us, the end of this period means moving forward from a year that began with our loved ones in our lives, and it is ending without them. It is difficult to to say goodbye to a year where we have to leave them behind. The joy that I can have this season is the understanding that I had this person in my life. I lived a life knowing this person made my life special, and this person is a part of defining who I am.  This is a milestone year, because I have to make peace with profound loss as well as all the stories of expectations and disappointments surrounding this kind of loss.

The way the world keeps moving forward may seem cruel. It’s hard to move forward after losing anything, especially someone who had an important place in our life. But, the inertia of life and the world is something that can help to carry us forward, when it is too difficult to do this alone. It feels counterintuitive, but there is a safe place moving forward into new time. Our loved ones will always be in our hearts. Their presence in our lives affects who we are for the rest of our lives.

One of the unsung gifts of art making is the ability to focus on a loved one's face and pray for the best while drawing this person. It is the best way I can think of to connect under the circumstances of sitting vigil far away, during a quarantine. Maybe by sharing this, it will help others in similar circumstances to find their own way to connect to their loved ones.  The action of drawing an image of this person steered my thoughts away from the worst fears, and helped to concentrate on healing and remembering important experiences we shared. It kept me in the best frame of mind possible, so when I saw her in video chats, in our last moments together, I was not lost in negativity and my own upset. This is a level of art making that is easily forgotten. There are elements in the process that are never visible, and the appearance of the finish is of secondary importance.

There are many of us who experienced the worst of Covid. In the past year, media coverage in this country tended to avoid reporting on the heaviest realities of the pandemic. While healthcare workers were giving warnings, and people were getting sick and/or were losing friends and family, much of the coverage was about economic loss and miracle recoveries. In the small space I have here, I can sing praises to the healthcare workers that cared for my loved one to the best of their abilities and then escorted her into her final hours with great care and compassion. They made it possible for me to have video chats with her. These were an open door when it was so important to be with her, and when it was not possible to sit by her side. A few days before she was taken off the ventilator, I was allowed to visit her in person. It broke my heart that she was unconscious during my short visit, but it meant the world to me that it was possible to see her. Healthcare workers made sure I was safe, and they gave me privacy with her. My memory of this loss is filled with compassionate words and acts from providers. I am very well aware they gave this kindness while risking their lives. Besides risks they took to serve people like me and my family, I know they were under tremendous pressure to perform their work. There were days when I called for updates, and the voice on the other end of the phone was stressed and shaking. I feared the worst, but the stress in the voice was the stress of this person working under unimaginable pressure. I think of these people all the time, and pray they will be safe and be rewarded. Their great and kind actions are a part of my memory of this loss, and I am so glad for their presence in my memories.