The World Was On Fire
And no one could save me but you
Today I have been writing in this blog for twenty years. I was always a journaler but it was May 2nd, 2000, at the end of grade eight, that I decided to start a public personal blog. Writing became my way to process and distill thoughts, to get to the bottom of my feelings.
So, the dumb observances of my grade nine self, the commentary and complaining, struggle through high school, feeling directionless, the wistfulness about ever finding love, lay bare online. It should be embarrassing, but it just is what it is.
I think that girl in grade eight would be happy to hear of what her 2020 self became at thirty-three, but with some mild shocks, perhaps. Only one year of tech collage, no degree. I think she would be surprised at the names I ultimately chose for my sons. And I really did think I would have a daughter (but I have made total peace with not).
I wanted to post something today, just to mark the milestone, but it does feel unimportant in a time of global crisis.
No doubt social distancing and staying home has been difficult with young kids, but it has been illuminating like a cleansing fire in some ways. When whole chunks of your life get taken away, you scramble to cope. I found that some things I thought were going to be helpful just stressed me out, namely Zoom chats with too many people.
It is actually such an odd phenomenon because I have FaceTimed my parents regularly, long before all this went down. I used to say, “video chats are amazing, it’s almost like being there”. Adam really knows his Calgary grandparents so well because of video chats. But now that every conversation is like this when it’s normally face to face, it just feels like a vulgar farce of interaction. It does not approach the real thing, not even close. I am grateful for this technology, but I am eager to have the real thing back. I have pretty much centred my social habits around avoiding large crowds for my entire life, so large summer events not happening doesn’t bother me. I would love some backyard barbecues and play dates, though.
It has been nearly two months since my kids have played with other children or seen any family. Adam is obviously confused about why “houses are closed, our house is closed, because of germs,” but overall he is handling this situation well. Tom working from home has been the bomb, and digital church has allowed me to listen to more Hillview sermons live in the last couple weeks than I have in the last couple months. The times are strange, but it’s not all bad.
And I’ll just be here, writing about my life’s random minutiae for twenty more years, God willing.