The 2020 Annual Family Letter...

Dear Family,

Where do we start on this epic year? 2020's January promise was palatable.  Bonus son closed on his condo. And despite the two day delay, his move in went smoothly. 

February was uneventful until Youngest and I got sick.  A weird cold, with extreme fatigue and high fever.  Youngest was better for a few days and then the fatigue really hit.  An err in judgement the night before regionals landed him in the hospital.  Asleep at the wheel, he rolled the car on the highway.  Lucky to be alive, he wrestled 6 hours after discharge in Regional Sectionals and placed 2nd in his weight division. Seems like a life time ago now.

March was Youngest's 18th birthday.  We went to dinner with his friends at his favorite steakhouse.  Twenty minutes after we came home the governor shut everything down. And just like that, people's world stopped spinning, while our world spun faster. While others stayed home, left alone with their thoughts, they cleaned, purged, wallowed, and lamented, we went out, worked harder, faster, ignored our own thoughts, and were left with no time for anything else.

13 years of school was upended in April, traded for 40 hour work weeks, face to face with an unhappy public, for things and policies out of Youngest's control. Oldest's first year of college, left dangling and uncertain.  Unplanned, unprecedented, his struggle was palpable, loud, and heard round the house from the kitchen table. 

By May, High School was abandoned altogether, and college was wrapped up with stress and trepidation.  Both finished with GPAs over 3.5. Trying to control what I could, I made and donated over 400 masks to workers in every field. I never took a dime, but quite literally worked my fingers to the bone, and wasn't able to sew for months after from the hand pain.

In June formal traditions abandoned, in lieu of a drive through graduation. Perhaps the cherry on the top of it all, graduating with the dog by his side, Youngest's struggle was more than evident, and the fall was inevitable. Parties on hold, gatherings came at a cost, everything became a game of what you're willing to sacrifice. The hubs uneventfully turned 54. Individual cakes were handed out during a backyard party. 

The youngin's spent all their free time on the beach in July, while the old worked harder and longer days than they should have.  Science evolved, and then it didn't.  People grew tired and got lazy, mistakes were made, accidents happened. The private, personal fireworks happened all month long, a casualty of surrounding towns cancelling their events.

The August heat bubbled everything over.  Oldest was staying home, commuting to school that may or may not happen.   Youngest's choices caught him, leaving the new car another pile of twisted metal.  He left for dorm life, the choices followed him, and the consequences were harsh.   

Oldest could not escape the drama of consequences left behind in Youngest's wake, his whole first month of school upset by the events that followed.  Youngest was hospitalized for a suicide attempt, locked up in his affectionately called "nut house", unmedicated, cell phone less, and sober it was probably the first time since March that he could think clearly.  He rediscovered his love of apple and orange juice while there, an odd, but quirky perk from a bad situation.

October found us on a quick birthday vacation, local and easy.  Forty six. How did I even get here? Upon our arrival home I finally broke down over chicken risotto, or lack there of, and my world unraveled. Funny what finally sets you over the edge. The husband was hospitalized overnight for heart and lung issues.  He was alone.  I could only drop off clothes and books at the desk. It was isolating and scary. He had a inflammation around his heart and lungs, unexplained, but curable. 

Oldest turned 20 in November. The husband was finally diagnosed with stage 3 Lyme after not being able to breathe for months. Old, shoved aside emotions reared their head as his mother's estate finally settled. We received notice that Youngest's choices from July continue to haunt him now, well into next year. The dog has a UTI, that's now resistant to two different antibiotics, but on the upside, my floors have never been cleaner.

Which brings us to December, facing the biggest snow storm in years, catching yet another pee sample from the dog for testing, with half a couch in the living room and a tired soul.  Youngest's game of chess is exhausting, and his two steps forward, side stepping back, is dizzying.  Oldest finished his semester with grades yet to be seen, and has committed to leave for the city in January regardless of cost.  My housing refinance fell though because of paperwork required by my original bank, which would render too costly and because of COVID, impossible to produce. This is the same refinance that has prevented me from securing a cosign for Oldest's tuition, thus forcing us to get creative. 

There are two weeks left in this year of years. While I remain hopeful, for 2021, the bar is low, really low. God willing if New Year's day will find us all sliding in sideways with a candy cane in one hand and cocoa in the other, with no sign of corona, I'll be happy. But more likely, if we are all still alive and completely asleep by 10pm on New Year's Eve, I'll consider it an epic win.

Until next year,

Juli