My children came home for Christmas, which made this year infinitely happier for me. But they've popped back to their own worlds (as they should) and their rooms are empty and frankly, I don't know what to do with myself. I've gone back to work, although I've managed to arrange for two days a week working from home and three days in the office. I was paralyzed by the prospect of traffic on the Expressway at rush hour, but I now listen to audio books as I drive, and instead of getting upset over a slow commute I think "Oh goodie! Another chapter!" so that's a good thing. I taught myself Italian online via Duo Lingo. I think I'm up to day 567 or something. I've cut a demo to do voiceover work, which is something I've been meaning to do but never gotten around to for the last 40 years or so. It's been a productive, if stinky, period of history I guess.
But in the past week we've lost Betty White and Desmond Tutu. Mortality is not a rumor. And somewhere along the line I've stopped worrying about it. I mean, as far as I know the only way to get into Heaven is to die, so I can't have it both ways, and I'm OK with that. I guess my only plan for 2022 is to pay attention to it all, to listen for the return of the birds in about a month and a half or so, to find as many things funny as I can, and to be kind. We need more kindness out there. Nothing else works.
The days are officially getting longer. Breathe in. Breathe out. Be patient with yourself and with others. And while you're at it, have a happy and (please God) healthy new year. Find something to be positive about. Then share it with the rest of us.