Good-bye, 2020 (don't let the door hit you)

I may have let an entire year go by since my last post, but I didn't want 2020 to go racing out the door altogether without shoving in at least a few words. Someone asked me earlier today, "How are you celebrating the new year?" and I said, "By going to bed on time and getting up when it's 2021. Oh, and probably by putting something on my blog about it being my anniversary. People love my widow content."

So, widow content is what you get.

I went to Canva looking for a nice New Year image, and this one seemed as likely as any. I thought the one that was a warning to be on the lookout for suspicious activity was too on the nose for 2020's last day.

It starts every year with Chadwick's birthday on October 4. I get a carrot cake or two to share at work, I post something cutesy on Facebook about how all October 4 calories are on Chadwick, and then the day ends and the earth continues to turn. And while I try not to let it spill on those around me, it's true that as the nights get longer, my days get darker. The holidays whirl by complete with what would have been, tomorrow, our 19th anniversary.

It's only a few weeks more until the *other* anniversary comes round, and while the seasons have changed and the literal hours of darkness are already shorter than they were earlier in December, my mental darkness will continue to grow. It's a cycle that's set in that I can't seem to shake--not that I've tried that hard, not that I want to shake it. Apart from the occasional inquiry from friends and acquaintances, the only person this darkness affects is me. And I'm fine with it, for now.

As great as it is when I get to visit with those who knew and loved Chadwick well, it's lovely to daily be surrounded by people who never knew Chadwick. People whose only connection to him is me. It's a gift to have so many friends and coworkers who welcome the stories of a very odd duck who took things as they came and made my life brighter by being in it. And so, if my 2021 starts off dim because I'm still missing the brightest star that ever shone onto my path... so be it.

It's probably best that such a bright soul didn't have to see 2020, anyway.

Happy new year, friends! As Colonel Potter says, may she be a damn sight better than the old one.