A Day In The Life

As we approach the one-year mark for this “wear a mask, wash your hands, and watch your distance” COVID-19 global pandemic, every day is starting to feel like groundhog’s day. Wash, rinse, repeat… except even bathing seems like yeoman’s work some days. What was once “unprecedented” is now slowly becoming the “new normal” and it is taking its toll… especially on our mental health.

The optimism we held in the spring (and confidence in my own abilities regarding homeschooling) faded before Memorial Day. Community pools closed, summer camps were cancelled, and vacations were put on hold. Fall semester schedules were adjusted, then a delayed start, and as soon as they attended part-time in person, the kids were sent back home to be fully remote yet again. College football was “as seen on TV” only and Fall school sports were pushed to spring. Trick-or-Treating was scrubbed. Thanksgiving was like any other dinner in the eight months prior… at home with our nuclear family only. Christmas started early with decorations going up and more frequent Amazon Prime deliveries… but without holiday parties, parades, progressive dinners, or neighborhood caroling. It was a hard candy Christmas on the daily…

I’m barely getting through tomorrow
But still I won’t let
Sorrow bring me way down

Lyrics from “Hard Candy Christmas,” a song by Dolly Parton

We’re now in February of 2021 and it feels… familiar. Everything, it seems, remains uncertain, worrisome, tense. In short, it’s exhausting. Bon Jovi got it right when he sang, “The more things change the more they stay the same.”

One of my tasks for the new year was to catch up on my family photo albums. I know… You’re thinking, “No one makes photo albums anymore.” But I do, or want to, for my girls. I was successful at creating albums from my first daughter’s birth in 2006 through 2012, the year of my third daughter’s (and final child’s) birth. And then, they stopped. In reality, I was raising three girls younger than six years old while working full-time. Excess time wasn’t exactly in ample supply for me. I would catch up, eventually. But then, I didn’t make one in 2014 when I separated from their Dad. I didn’t make one in 2015 as we were going through the divorce. And, somehow, it was 2020 and I was seriously behind. Eight years behind! The idea of trying to catch up was daunting, but goals aren’t accomplished with fear.

New year. New goals. Right? So, I hunkered down and got it done! The final hardcopy of the 8th “missing year” album arrived last week. I was ecstatic… and then suddenly incredibly emotional. Those eight years went by so damn fast.

My Papaw Jack always said to me, “The older you get, the faster it goes,” but I was wrecked. Eight years from now, I’ll have a 22-year old, a 19-year old, and a 16-year old.

Between COVID-amped emotions, a healthy dose of nostalgia, and a sincere appreciation for the day-to-day beauty of my life, I decided I needed to grab my camera and, sans people, document the simple pleasures, random patterns, and plethora of prized possessions throughout our home… at that very moment in time. I always try to capture my girls’ big moments. I sneak snapshots of quiet significance. I force selfies with them so I’m IN some of the photos. But this, this was different. This endeavor was about photographing that which I would never normally think to document. So I did. And I’m sharing it here.

As I look at these, I’m humbled, gratified, and amused. I’m reminded, reflective, and appreciative. These photos tell the stories, public and private, of this life I live… and of this life I share and have shared… with my daughters, my family, friends (still present and long lost), co-workers, significant others, and YOU!