It’s New Year’s Eve and my adult children just left for a party. My eldest and her hubby flew home this morning. The house is empty except for me and three dogs. They’re calm now, but at midnight, when the fireworks go off, Daisy will dive under the bed.
As I scroll on Facebook, lots of friends are posting what a terrible year 2021 was and how 2022 has got to be better.
Did they forget about 2020?
2021 was a godsend after the lonely nightmare that was 2020.
Good things that happened in 2021
- I was able to get vaccinated in January and February.
- I was able to spend many weekends with two of my adult children.
- I had one adult child move in with me in April instead of moving to Seattle.
- I went dancing in May. It had been 15 months since I did that in public.
- I danced at several outdoor venues throughout the summer.
- I was able to see my oldest and her hubby when they flew to CA for two summer weddings.
- I got back to singing with my large chorus.
- I got boosted in September.
- I went to an outdoor Halloween party.
- I was able to sing in two December choral performances with no mask.
- I saw extended family at Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Thinking back to 2020, I wasn’t able to do ANY of those things. So, to me, 2021 was a pretty good year.
Plus, there were no elections. And we got a sane person in the White House.
Okay, January 6th was a dumpster fire, COVID-19 waxed and waned throughout the calender year, and lots of good people died. The Supreme Court went political instead of neutral, the court case decision Roe V. Wade is in trouble, and young women and girls are still being harassed and assaulted.
2021 wasn’t stellar, but please see reasons 1- 11 above to see why I don’t think it was the worst year ever, as some have posted. 2020 was lonely, melanoma-y, boring, slow, sad, stressful, scary, and there was no wedding for my daughter and future son-in-law.
They didn’t reschedule the wedding. They went straight to the next life event. Yes, they are expecting. I’m going to be a granny, a nana, a GiGi, a Nona, Abue, a Yaya. Grandma, grams, grammy, whatever, I don’t care. I get to buy onesies and little hats and mittens, stuffed giraffes and tiny swim trunks. I get to go to the thrift store on Senior Wednesdays and get all of that baby stuff for half off for my future grandson.
Here I sit with Pepper, Daisy, and Violet. No parties – too Covidy, no dates (I remember dating), no one to talk to except Pepper, Daisy and Violet, and I’m so cool with it all, I can’t believe it. Just two years ago in 2019, I felt bad because I was spending New Year’s with people that I wasn’t that close to, and missing the dancing from the year before. In 2018 I was still a party girl in a sexy black dress.
Time marches on. COVID-19 has pushed the pause button. I’m glad I am 66, not 46 or 26. I have lots of New Year’s Eves to remember. It’s all good.
Until the fireworks drive Daisy under the bed.
Final Jeopardy tonight – the category was Music Legends. I blurted out my guess to the dogs, “Paul McCartney.”
After the commercial, I was stunned to see the answer –Of their July 1957 first meeting at a church fair, one of the pair recalled, “I was a fat school boy and he was a drunk.”
All three players guessed Simon and Garfunkle.
I was half right. The questions was, “Who are Lennon and McCartney?”