Last New Year’s Day, I took a stroll with my family. Like many across the nation at that time, we had been cooped up during the holiday season, and our daily walks became a necessary escape (even if they involved some yelling at the kids). On that brisk, chilly day, I looked out over the water and whispered a silent wish: Please, be good to us, 2021.
As we all know, that didn’t quite pan out. With one insurrection and a persistent pandemic later, here we are again, welcoming a new year, 2022. But the reality is that we’re far from where we stood as the previous year began. We have vaccines—if only more people would just get them—and an array of tools at our disposal.
The constant cycle of risk evaluation and management has left many parents feeling numb, though I’m fortunate that my kids are old enough to be vaccinated (and my partner and I are boosted). I feel less shattered than I did a year ago. Last year was filled with anger, sadness, and depression. I still feel that way, but with a bit less intensity. Three years of unrelenting anger isn’t great for anyone.
So, while hope is on the horizon and where I live, there seems to be a collective, unspoken commitment to do what’s right, I’m stepping into this new year knowing that an abundance of work, emotional strain, and mental anxiety still lies ahead. This realization doesn’t grant me peace, but I recognize the need to offer myself and my loved ones as much grace as possible after three years of this.
I won’t fall into the trap of naive prayers for the new year, but I do believe in sending out positive thoughts into the universe.
So here’s my wish for 2022: Don’t make us dislike you, too.
This article was initially published on Dec. 30, 2021.
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