The Baltimore Ravens are playing (and winning) according to the football aficionados in the next room. The dishes piled since breakfast are waiting to be dealt with. My teens are chattering away on their devices and the younger members of the household are asleep. It’s a typical evening. I like the evening because is quiet and predictable. It’s all quiet except for my brain chatter which is louder than all the above. It’s a white noise I can’t shut off when I start thinking about tomorrow.
Tomorrow is the unknown. Instead of facing the new day with a bright-eyed bushy-tailed joie de vie, I am worrying over things beyond my control. Will my loved ones be healthy and safe? Will the next WhatsApp message or email announce someone needs to go into quarantine? Or that school is closed…or….or…or any number of unforeseen scenarios of which will topple my already fragile routine providing what little security I’m trying to create in a world of instability.
Most people look to me as a pillar of strength and optimism. I would agree that is who I am most of the time. I may not be Pollyanna, but I do tend to look on the bright side. But even Pollyanna had her moments after she fell from the tree and had an injury.
This summer I was in quarantine for 36 days recovering from Covid-19 while dealing with a houseful of energetic kids. When it was over, I was deemed a quarantine rock star and asked how I survived the ordeal. It really wasn’t a choice. It was an attitude of facing the circumstances and making the best of them.
But to even make the best of things you still have to face the fear of the unknown, put on that brave front, and hope for the best. 2021 is a mere flip of a calendar page but it represents a clean break, a new hope, and a blank canvas.
Perhaps the Home Team will win. Perhaps they won’t, but tomorrow will be another day, the dawn will come, and I can just hope for the best.