It was fun at first, being from Ohio, snow doesn’t excite me much, but seeing others enjoy it, that’s always fun.
Then it became personal, with frozen pipes and power outages, seeing my neighbors struggle, myself, my cat. Tensions ran high as we watched our ceilings for leaks, our candles for fires, each exhale like that of a smoker, small cloud makers.
Knowing that by the end of the week that temperatures would climb, didn’t matter in the moment.
Hearing outrageous comments from appointed officials was the only fuel on a fire that began to burn within.
Never have I faced a time when my only concern was my survival and yours.
It’s a never-ending year long scary movie, we strapped into our seats.
It’s a haunted house, with no end, never knowing what’s going to jump out at you next.
One thing touches the other and there is no space in between.
I am afraid that we will relax, just as school shootings became common place, such has COVID, we adjust, we become numb, we accept.
As we hold our breath for our energy bills, we hold our breath for the “next thing” that might happen.
As we feel relief with rising temperatures, with the vaccine, as we offer prayers for people in harms way, we must find a way to do better.
I worry most about the “in-betweeners.” Those who don’t qualify for help, and suffer in silence. Those who need help but feel they’ll go to the back of the line, because someone else might have a greater need. It’s true that those with the least to give are usually the ones that give the most.
This past year has been a Roller Coaster ride that none of us bought a ticket to.
As we hold our breath waiting for the ride to come to an end, it skips a gear and we’re off on another round. At times, the speed is breathtaking, and then it stops so suddenly that we’re startled into silence. Hoping, praying that the ride is over.
Hold on, hold on, hold on.
