Island Life: The Year Ends As It Began

Last year at this time, we were finishing up nearly-a-year of pandemic. So many things had been canceled, closed, postponed. We celebrated a quiet Christmas with just my mother-in-law, who was staying with us—she had basically moved in after there was a covid case in her senior community.

Last year at this time, we’d been through quite a year, but there was hope in the winds: not one but two mRNA vaccines were showing great promise! They were being fast-tracked toward emergency-use approval, and more research was underway. Soon, we thought, we’d be able to get vaccinated and then the world would open up again!

Last year at this time, there were even some promising signs in the political arena here in the U.S., though things were still a bit uncertain.

Well…now it’s a year later. We got vaccinated (yay!), and even boosted. The world opened up, a bit. Then delta happened, and now omicron. Everything’s shutting back down. We’ll be celebrating Christmas with my mother-in-law, and also my brother-in-law, here from Idaho, who we have not seen in two years. (We are taking precautions, and hoping this is not a terrible idea.)

There are even some promising signs in the political arena, though things are still rather uncertain.

How long does this ride last?

In June, we left the island for ten days and drove to California. The occasion was my brother’s 50th birthday, though we also visited dear friends all along the way, and went to some of our favorite shops “out there”.

For my brother’s party, his partner had chartered a boat for a “three-hour tour” of San Francisco Bay. We enjoyed yummy food and festive cupcakes and adult beverages—and the company of other human beings! It was a gorgeous sunny day, a celebratory gathering, hugs and laughter amid a kind of breathless, uncertain-but-hopeful sense that we’d come out of the worst of it, that yes, maybe there would be another wave, but for now at least, we could be maskless, we could see our loved ones. We could have a birthday party.

June seems SO bizarrely unreal to me now.

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As we’ve noted since the beginning of the pandemic, Mark and I are pretty darn lucky, actually. We both work at home, and we’re busier than ever. We live in a comfortable house on a lovely plot of land on a gorgeous island, far from the madding crowds. And, of course, we have each other. We’re far more fortunate than so many people we know.

And yet. We’re lonely. We’re scared. Seeing our loved ones once every couple of years just isn’t enough. My nephew is growing up without getting to know his auntie and uncle (and vice versa). We still haven’t had a memorial service for my stepdad, who died in January of 2020.

And we’re tired. Tired of all the closed, shut, gone, postponed, ended things—and feeling kind of like jerks about missing such “frivolous” joys as restaurants, and the gym, and just wandering into an interesting-looking store to look around, or running into friends on the ferry, or going to the movie theater.

Yet those “fun” things provided the punctuation to normal life. To work. Now we just have the work. I’m getting a lot accomplished, sure, but…it’s kind of all running together in my mind.

And. Did I mention, tired?

We plan to make a few changes in the new year. We’ve been working six or even seven days a week—there’s always so much more to do, it’s never all done—but that isn’t healthy. Even if there isn’t something fun to go off and do elsewhere, we still need to figure out how to take time off. Starting January 1, I’m committing to this crazy new concept called the weekend. I’m actually going to NOT WORK on Saturdays and Sundays.

(And already my devious little brain is bargaining: what is “work” exactly? Is writing work? I used to write on the weekends when I had a day job elsewhere. What about housework, the many chores involved in country life? Or errands?)

(Oh brain. Shush. Go read a book.)

Wish me luck. And wish us all luck, that someday this lovely world of ours might open up again—so I can get to know this adorable nephew of mine before he’s out of college.