A Thank You Letter to 2020
What a doozy.
We can all agree that 2020 was a dumpster fire. It legitimately started off on fire, with Australian wildfires, burning over 12 million acres. That feels like 10 years ago, doesn’t it?
Looking back on this year of loss, it feels like everyone seems to be grieving something. Whether you’ve lost things like routine, normalcy, jobs, or a tragic loss of a loved one, you are not alone. Each and every loss is significant, and there is no room here for comparative suffering.
I am not here to say that 2020 was a good year in any way, shape or form. However, I will say that 2020 taught me things that I do not think I could have learned in any other way.
To give you some backstory, I did have a huge loss: a loved one. My father passed away suddenly August 17th from a massive brain hemorrhage. He was 57. He left behind my mother, me (25), and my two younger sisters, 23 and 13. We miss him more than I can possibly describe in words.
So, it’d be easy for me to give a big “F**** you!” to 2020, but what I want to say to 2020 is, in short, thank you.
Thank you for teaching me that all I ever need is within me.
Thank you for teaching me that health is never to be taken for granted.
Thank you for educating me on some of the biggest issues facing this country.
On that note, thank you for showing me that neutrality on these issues (i.e. racial inequality) is the same thing as taking the side of the oppressor.
Thank you for showing me that my world will not fall apart if I let go of strict routine.
Thank you for teaching me to never underestimate what others are going through.
Thank you for showing me the value of real human connection.
Thank you for showing me that I am one of the lucky ones to come out of a pandemic with a few extra pounds.
On that note, thank you for helping me realize I do not owe it to anyone to wear uncomfortable clothing again.
Thank you for showing me the underestimated value of a walk outside in the sunshine.
Thank you for showing me the value of family: chosen and blood.
Thank you for showing me that the only way out of pain is directly through it.
Thank you for teaching me the value of slowing down and stillness.
Thank you for showing me that it is okay not to be okay.
Most of all, thank you for showing me that crisis reminds you of what’s truly important: the people you love.
I will carry these lessons into 2021. Although I am still in deep grief, I know that the only way to move forward is with an open heart to whatever this next year brings. I wish the same for all of you.
Happy New Year
