Corona Letters #61 - There's no Place like Home

 Last night, as the blessed New Year chimed into existence, I clicked my ruby slippers three times and said, 

"There's no place like home.  There's no place like home.  There's no place like home."

Then I promptly went to bed.

When I awoke this morning, January 1st, 2021, I expected to be back in Kansas.  I expected to see Auntie Em, Uncle Henry, Zeke, Hunk, and Hickory (aka the Lion, Tin Man, and Scarecrow) by my bedside telling me that it was all over, that 2020 was FINALLY over, and that life was back to normal again.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, I went downstairs and life was pretty much the same as it has been for the last 9 months.

I honestly didn't mind staying home last night for New Years Eve.   I was happy to be in my PJs by 9 and watching Netflix until we switched over to "Live at Times Square" at 11:50 p.m..   It was so surreal to see an empty Times Square, re-igniting the all too familiar 2020 feeling that we are all currently living in a science fiction movie.   I couldn't wait for the year to be over.   When 2021 finally came to be, I literally went outside and screamed some expletives at the departing year (before I clicked the aforementioned ruby slippers).   I was done, done, done with 2020.

So yeah, I didn't mind staying home on New Years Eve.   I didn't mind not seeing friends or family.  I had made peace with it all somehow.

This morning I woke up and wanted to go to brunch.  I know, I know, first world problems.  I wanted to meet with friends, drink Bloody Marys, and cheerily toast to the fact that we somehow, and luckily, survived last year.   That's not going to happen though.   I won't be seeing anyone other than my husband and dog today.  It's okay, they're good company.

I think I had a false narrative in my head that things would be different today.   I didn't even realize that this narrative was in my head until I opened my eyes this morning and nothing significant had changed.

I rolled over in my bed, looked at my husband and said, "Can we go to S&S in Cambridge for brunch today?" "Can we walk around Harvard Square after?" "Can we meet up with friends?"   He gave me a sad sort of smile and said, "Sure.  Let's do that." 

We won't be doing any of that.  At least not yet.

So I guess we're still on that damn Yellow Brick Road.   We are still in the crazy world of wicked witches, flying monkeys and "Great and Powerful" wizards who are really cowards hiding behind a flimsy curtain (I won't give the "real" names of these villains, feel free to do that yourself ;))

2021, however,  is the ability to finally see the Emerald City and feel hopeful that our perilous journey is near it's end.  We just have to run through the endless poppies and try not to fall asleep (or catch any viruses) along the way.   Charlatans are being exposed for who they really are even as I write this.   And we will slowly but surely come to the realization that we had the strength we needed to get through this pandemic all along.    The badge of honor we will receive, or the gift we never knew we already had, is a pair of glasses that allows us to see through the lens of 2020 what/who really matters to us each individually.    Muted grays will give way to sharp focus, glorious technicolor.   We will all move forward with these new lenses firmly on our faces.

At some point, when we reach the heart of the Emerald City, we will find ourselves on a platform and we will get our "shot" to come home again.   We will take it gladly and click our red slippers as fast as we can, chanting "there's no place like home".   We do this with the knowledge that some things will be forever lost to us.  There are people we will never see again, who we will have to leave behind.

That is the price of moving forward.

2021, please, "There's no place like home!"

Note:   2020 has upped the culinary abilities in this household so we had a quality brunch despite the inability to go out and celebrate with friends.

Next year, you're all invited!