What a difference a year makes.
This time last year, we were all getting our sea legs so to speak, as we navigated the uncertain waters of quarantine. My oldest daughter delivered my groceries and I washed every item before putting it away. I wore gloves and scoured each and every surface with disinfectant.
We hadn’t learned the language of COVID-19 yet nor the protocols. We were learning as we lived through it. We made masks out of anything and everything. I even tried the “sock” mask before breaking out the sewing machine and stitching masks for myself as well as my family.
We muddled through. Remember? Rumors about the whole thing ending when the weather warmed gave us hope. Then growing numbers of those infected and the many succumbing to the virus dashed those ideas.
I don’t need to relive it. We were there.
And now we are here.
Easter 2020, my youngest daughter hid eggs in my backyard for her own daughters to hunt. I watched from my bedroom balcony.
But this year? With many of my family fully vaccinated and with everyone sporting their favorite mask, we gathered at my house for dinner, played games, and visited. We “socially distanced” by sitting in differing areas and set the food service up so everyone had what they needed without getting into each other’s space.
Cousins. Games. Masks.
My mother visited early before all the hoopla and that was great. My middle daughter with her husband and four children arrived from Wisconsin. I hadn’t seen them in over a year. To have all three of my daughters here at the same time proved incredibly healing for me.
I smiled as the younger children hunted eggs in the back yard, the lightest of snow flurries coming down. My oldest daughter brought beautifully decorated cupcakes for everyone and a candle for each. We sang one big happy birthday to the whole family.
It was one of those crazy beautiful times when you realize how much you missed through the year and cherish how much you have in the moment.