You know that feeling you get when you have been driving alone in the car, when your eyes are fixed on the road, but your brain drifts off to another place? You might be replaying a conversation or a past event inside your head, running through that never ending list of things to do, planning the next birthday celebration, working through the latest family dilemma, or daydreaming about some grand escape. Your eyes are fixed on the road, but you lose sight of your surroundings. You blink, and you realize you have traveled several miles. Twenty minutes have passed, and you haven’t a clue what has transpired during that time. You don’t recall driving past the usual landmarks, and you can’t quite fathom how you got there. It is an unsettling feeling. You were there, but you weren’t fully present.

That is how I’m feeling about 2021. I vaguely recall how it began. Vaguely. I don’t remember New Year’s Eve or Valentine’s Day. I couldn’t tell you what kind of cake I ate on my birthday or what, if anything, we did to celebrate Saint Patrick’s Day. School ended and summer began with very little fanfare because my children were still enrolled in distance learning. There were a few milestones I do recall… standing in line for the COVID vaccine, the excruciating loss of my sister-in-law, my husband’s prolonged absence as he grieved with his family and then quarantined outside the home for several weeks, the day my daughters got their COVID vaccines, that phone call I received alerting me to the fact my sixteen-year-old was rejecting her transplanted kidney, rolling our suitcases through the ER as we checked into the hospital, the day we busted out of the hospital (kidney once again stable), my fifteen-year-old daughter earning a spot on a highly competitive volleyball team, the joy I felt seeing her play, the fear I felt when she was exposed to COVID, the relief I felt when those test results came back negative, painting my office (something I’ve longed to do for well over a decade), the pride I felt when my daughter passed the test for her learner’s permit, and more recently… carving pumpkins with my brother and his family on a crisp fall day beneath a shockingly blue sky. 

While I can recall several highs and lows, there are huge chunks of time that are missing from my mind. It certainly doesn’t feel like eleven months have passed by. It is unsettling… losing nearly an entire year of your life. And, if I’m being totally honest, the same darn thing happened in 2020. I think these past two years will forever be known as the years we lost to COVID. Our calendars and our clocks kept chugging along, but our brains didn’t compute this passage of time. So many of the events that typically mark the passage of time were cancelled or muted. So here I sit… in November. We are hurtling toward the holidays, and I can’t fathom how we got here. Shockingly, this is my first and quite possibly my last blog post for 2021. I’m still trying to wrap my head around that. 

I want you to know I am still plugging along with Shae’s story (book six in the Broken Series). I’m working on the final chapter now. My editor still needs to work her magic, but that likely won’t happen until January. If all our stars align, we will get this book to print in time for Valentine’s Day. I’m not going to lie. This book has proven a bit of a bear, given the competing demands on my time, but I am eager to share it with you. I will offer this tiny bit of insight… Do you remember way back in the final chapter of Beautifully Broken when Shae was riding her bike on the Potomac River Trail?  She spotted Kri doing yoga in the park and stopped to tell her about that job opening at Seeds for Peace. It was the first time she met Kadyn, who was feeling all kinds of surly because Kri wasn’t answering her phone. Shae hugged Kri before they left for that scavenger hunt benefitting Saint Jude’s Children’s Hospital. When she did, she whispered, “What I wouldn’t give to be you for just one day.” Well, her fairy god-author has granted that wish and then some. I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store for her. Stay tuned. February will be here before you know it!

Before I sign off, let’s pinky promise… No more years lost to COVID. Enjoy the holidays. Every. Moment. No more blinking and wondering how you got there. Live in the moment.

Woah, that sounds like the perfect New Year’s resolution. 

Where’s that pinky?

I don’t know if what I’ve been experiencing is writer’s block or if this is all part and parcel of living through a global pandemic. Juggling my daughter’s kidney transplant (which was followed by several life threatening complications), “living” at the hospital for several weeks, supporting my children in distance learning, trying to re-invent their social lives, comforting them as they mourned the loss of normalcy, scrubbing groceries, cleaning obsessively, researching the threat posed by COVID-19, scouring the news for some sign of hope, all while teaching my university courses online was no small feat. Throw in the nagging distraction of eroding social and political norms, which increased the fear and anxiety I’ve been feeling for my family, and there you have it. I could not quiet my mind long enough to write amid all that chaos and uncertainty. 

Sadly, I’m sure you can relate. 

This was a brutal year for all of us, a year marked by sadness and fear, hardship and loss. But it is my sincerest hope that we can all put these hardships in perspective by reflecting on the unique and astounding challenges we faced, on our resilience, on the kindness of others, the courage and self-sacrifice shown by essential workers, by acknowledging the faith, hope, and love that carried us through this time. Rest assured I am not giving up on my New Year’s resolution to write two books in 2020. I’m simply extending the deadline. I look forward to sharing those books with you in 2021. Until then, stay healthy, be safe, and be kind to yourself. Please, rest in this thought…

You are a gift, and that gift is enough.

COVID-19 has changed our lives in profound ways. Many of us are working from home. Some are still working outside the home, quite literally risking their lives in essential jobs. And far too many have lost their jobs. The sudden onset of this crisis and the abrupt annihilation of so many societal norms have been shocking, anxiety inducing, frustrating, and truly heartbreaking… which is why I’m checking in with you. How are you holding up? I’d really like to know. And what are you doing to make this crisis a bit more bearable for yourselves and your loved ones? I’d never ask you to share something that I myself am unwilling to share, so I’ll start, but promise me, you’ll share how you are feeling as well. We could all stand to gain a few more strategies for getting through this crisis so please consider sharing some of your strategies in the comment section below.

So, how am I holding up? Well, it’s been a mixed bag. My daughter had a kidney transplant in January. She had an adverse reaction to some of her medications, so she has no immune system at the moment. She is in that at-risk population, as are my parents, who live with us. She’s being monitored closely. Unfortunately, that monitoring requires weekly, sometimes twice weekly blood draws. In other words, we have to break our “quarantine bubble” on a regular basis. We take every precaution imaginable, but the fear and anxiety surrounding the exposure to others and the implications for my daughter are staggering. We have been unable to quarantine long enough to breathe easy, to feel like maybe, just maybe, we’re in the clear. Because we’re not. Add to this concern for my youngest daughter, whose volleyball season ended abruptly. She’s missed several training camps on top of that, so she’s worried she won’t have the skills and endurance to make the team when she enters high school in the fall. I don’t want to see her dreams squashed. And then there’s my mom. She had to leave a job she loves in order to protect my daughter and her own health. I’m worried for her as well. My brother and his wife aren’t working, and they’ve been unable to qualify for unemployment. They have bills to pay and two toddlers to provide for. I’m worried for them, and I miss them terribly. Which is crazy because they live less than a mile away. I’m also worried about my single friends, who have been isolated for far too long. I’m even more worried for all those nurses and physicians who have seen our family through so many difficult times. So, yes, I’m scared, and sad, and worried.

But I’m also extremely grateful. I’m grateful my husband and I can both work from home. I’m grateful we have such a remarkable support system. I’m grateful to those teachers who suddenly had to switch to online teaching so they could continue to educate and empower our students. I’m grateful for every person who is working in an essential job, for every person who has closed a business, for those who have sacrificed their jobs, and for every person who willingly abides by the quarantine. And I am simply in awe of all the people who are making masks; donating protective equipment, food, and money; shopping for others, and supporting businesses that have closed as best they can. I’m so deeply humbled by these heroic acts, by the selflessness that now defines our country and others. They say a person’s true character is revealed during a crisis. Well, I want you to take a good long look in the mirror and recognize just how courageous, selfless, kind, and heroic you are. I also want to thank you from the bottom of my heart because my daughter’s life is one of those lives you are saving right now.

So, as I smile and brush a grateful tear from my cheek, I want to share some of the strategies I’ve been applying to get by. First, I’ve been trying to focus on the silver linings, identifying several aloud each and every day. I’ve been praying a lot. I’ve been attending church online in my pajamas with my dog. I’ve been talking more with family and friends through video messaging, not just texting. I’ve been spending more time with my family, playing games and binge-watching Psych. I’m cuddling with my dog more. I’m walking with my husband, my daughters, and my dog. I’m feeding the squirrels who venture onto our deck. I’m keeping the birdfeeder full as well. As silly as it seems, I really enjoy their visits. We invested in a hammock, which has helped draw us all outside and provides us with an opportunity to soak in some Vitamin D and relax. I ordered some seeds from Burpee and have been growing herbs, vegetables, and flowers. I’m doing Yoga with Adriene (all of her classes are free on YouTube). I’m reading more books, mostly time travel romance. They’ve proven a wonderful escape. I’m watching the news less, taking it in in small doses so I can stay informed but not overwhelmed. I’m listening to more music. I’m eating healthier, baking more. And I’ve been seeking out ways to help those who are less fortunate. 

So tell me, how are you holding up? What sort of strategies are you applying to help make this crisis a bit more bearable? I really want to know.