A Melancholy Look Back
By the time you read this it will be 2021, or on the utter verge. Finally and mercifully. There are a couple of reasons I haven’t yet written this ode to this truly shitty year. One reason is a true lament: I don’t get much time to write these days. When I do I try to make it count.
Hopefully this will count for something. But the real reason, I say with only some jest, is that there was still time for more awful stuff to happen. As it’s happened nearly every day since early March.
In Canada and the world, far too many people can honestly say that the past 365 days (from March on, specifically) have been the worst ever. I agree wholeheartedly. Excluding those that have lived through war, famine and other atrocities and personal struggles, it’s been the nastiest bugger of a year that many millions of people have lived through or are likely to ever experience.
I know a few folks who have experienced the very worst that COVID-19 has to offer. I think they know who I’m talking about and for what it’s worth, I believe they know that they have my heartfelt sympathy.
Amid all the chaos and turmoil, somehow, almost inexplicably, this hasn’t been my worst year. Far from it. In fact, so far that I can’t even draw vague parallels. In some ways, my 2020 has been a largely uninterrupted extension of my 2019, one of my best years ever. I’ve been reflecting on this paradox for weeks.
I’m not celebrating my good fortune. I wouldn’t dream of it. Not with all the daily reminders of how many lives and livelihoods have been lost or are teetering. I simply look back on the hardest times and am grateful that they seem to be well behind me.
The Lamentable Years
A quick recounting of my most distressing years, for the sake of context and perspective:
I think about 1992 to 1996 and can easily summon the worst times of my long battle with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Living at home with my parents and with sparse and fast depleting energy, it was essentially the worst misery I’ve known. An uneasy mix of infirmity, hopelessness and desolation. Then I met Kim, on the last day of 1996, and it all started to change.
Second place goes to not long ago: 2013-2016, an era that encompassed the end of my journalism career, unemployment, underemployment, and endless worrying about finances. It ended only when I took the gargantuan leap to the unknown world of long-haul trucking. The unlikeliest of salvations, as it’s turned out.
Third place goes to a few years of my teenage tenure, where I was just lost in so many ways. There’s no news here; nothing that any typical young person has never encountered. Academics, girls, my future, trying to be cool … all were escalating shortfalls.
My 2020 Positives
There’s no end to how grateful I am to be able to create a list that is lengthier than I had originally anticipated.
The good things started right away with a nearly new (2019) work truck, by far the best one I’ve had so far. Unlike its predecessors, it has no cooling systems failures or mechanical quirks. The anti-rollback is fantastic and the bunk heater and AC works on the truck’s battery, which means turning the engine off at night, which means a quieter truck and more restful sleep. A year in and it’s been a delightful ‘home away from home on wheels.’
Speaking of work, it’s been the most stress-free year of my working life. I’ve continued travelling mostly to the Carolinas each week, where I’ve managed to deftly avoid anti-maskers and keep being productive. My perfect safety record is still intact and I’m learning all the time. And, finally I have the most stable income that I’ve ever known.
For the remainder of the list, I used my iPhone camera roll to ensure I was reminded of every possible positive event that happened in my life since we last celebrated a new year:
On February 28, Ailsa and I had one of our customary Dad-Daughter outings in Toronto: a combination dinner and Raptors game. This one was noteworthy because it was the last home game the Raptors played before the league was shut down in early March. They haven’t played at home since. It doesn’t matter now that they lost (barely) to an inferior Charlotte Hornets team.
The last week in March, I got to see coastal Carolina – Wilmington, Charleston and Hilton Head – for the first time. It’s an unmistakably beautiful place but it was weird timing. Talk of lockdowns and stay-at-home orders, social distancing and the like had just begun. There seemed to be far too many cars on the roads despite the escalating news about this deadly new virus and warnings to stay home. In the coming weeks I would see more of Hilton Head plus catch my first good glimpse of iconic Myrtle Beach.
From March through June, Kim and I embarked upon our first Netflix binge-watching marathon. We decided that ‘Breaking Bad’ was our jumping-on point and the series proved to be nothing short of one stunning ‘what the hell just happened?’ moment after another. She couldn’t watch parts of the last few episodes and I had to tell her when it was okay to come back down to the basement to see more.
In mid-June my amazing daughter turned 19 and we had a low-key celebration. This was the year where she got her driver’s license and started college. These are two more entries in her fast-growing ledger of accomplishments.
In late June I finally got my first tattoo, a full-colour Haida beaver on my upper left arm. The beaver is a symbol of persistence, resourcefulness and creativity, all of which I identify with clearly. Plus, I just think it looks cool.
In August, Kim and I visited Southampton and Tobermory for a few days, revisiting a couple of our favourite areas of Ontario amid a year of altered vacations plans for most everyone that I know. We hiked, we biked, I swam in frigid clear water and we went on a wonderful evening boat cruise with a horde of other mask-wearing tourists.
Also in August, I rebuilt our backyard patio with a little help at a small fraction of what it would have cost someone else to come and do it. It might not look like a million dollar job but it’s nice, welcoming and most importantly, finished.
In October, Kim, Ailsa and I took a short trip to the Blue Mountains area to appreciate the fall colours, hike, stay in a cool chalet and drink apple cider.
At the end of the month, I traded in my leased Ford Focus for a shiny new maroon Ford Escape, the best car I’ve ever had.
In November, Trump lost. I cheered hard.
Then came the highlight of the year: our niece and nephew-in-law welcomed a beautiful healthy baby girl into the world. She’s just gorgeous and nothing else could have possibly topped her arrival and the very sight of her. We – everyone in the whole family – will enjoy this amazing gift for the rest of our lives.
In closing
On a sad note, this year we lost my brother-in-law’s Mom and our next door neighbour, both to cancer. Due to Covid restrictions, we never got to properly celebrate their lives but we miss them both very much.
Aside from that, the rest of the family is all healthy, including my Mom and Dad, and Kim’s Mom and Dad. We’re grateful to still have all four parents with us and healthy. As far as I know, and I certainly hope it’s true, the rest of our family and our close friends are doing well and are healthy, though we do know a few folks who have suffered financially from Covid. We’re hoping for much better for them in 2021.
Personally, I’ll continue to work hard for all that I get. During my off-time, I’m going to make more time to write. I assume that I’m up to the challenge of coming up with interesting new things to scribble down. I’ll also keep working out and probably keep overdoing it with the running and exercising outside my truck. And I’ll keep trying to remain positive and not ‘sweat the small things,’ as I’m still all too prone to doing, to my wife and daughter’s chagrin. To counter that small doses of disparagement, I’ll keep reaching for moments of beauty and glory … on the road, at home and in all vestiges in between.
As for the year that’s been and all the hell and upheaval that’s it’s brought, I invite you to all along with me to wish it one final good riddance. May we never see its like again. For all of you out there, I hope and I pray that you’ve come through it with as much grace as humanly possible.