Thank You 2020!

Having administered its final double kick in the plums that is Brexshit and plunging us headfirst into the dung pile that is Tier 4, 2020 will soon disappear into the past choking on our trailing dust, as we, its reluctant passengers disembark, flicking a few vees and looking back on it with contempt and great disdain. 

Many, many lives have needlessly been taken before their time, individuals and businesses have been pushed to the brink or sadly gone under altogether and where the best has been brought out in some of our leaders, others have been exposed for the vacuous, fatuous, bumbling, indecisive fools that they are, causing yet more pain, death, disruption and elongating the whole sorry saga.

When viewed as a whole like this, the bigger picture of 2020 is a pretty grim one to behold. Sure, there are many learnings which can be taken from it, but it is not an image which one would wish to linger on for too long. However, whilst the picture in its entirety may not be pleasant, a closer examination of our own place within it may reveal a few areas where the light breaks through to illuminate some of the good stuff.

We were granted a renewed sense of solidarity, which was much needed following the divisiveness caused by Brexshit since 2016. We clapped the NHS and keyworkers over the course of those Thursday nights with pride. We may well have been in different boats but we were weathering the same storm. A few vestiges of that early solidarity remain, but not like early lockdown. I don’t know when I’ve felt that before and wonder if we will feel it again or do we have to wait for another seismic catastrophe to unite us?

More personal to me has been the evolution of my relationship with my children. I can be honest enough with myself to say that historically I haven’t been there enough for them to prioritise their needs over my own, but taking that same honesty, I can also say that I have corrected that particularly fraught course I was on and all of my children are now where they should always have been: front and centre.

Like many, Covid has meant that I have been working from home. As a result, it has meant that I am not required to be away overnight on a regular basis. It has meant greater flexibility with my working hours and it is here where the pandemic offered up a rare gift to me: more time with my children. This greater flexibility – which I am delighted to say will be the company’s new way of working post-pandemic – has meant that I could do what I never thought possible and be a full 50% co-parent to my children. I can’t put a price on that and as my nerd-self’s hero and bona-fide man crush; Tony Stark, observes in Endgame when pressed for advice on fatherhood: “no amount of money ever bought a second of time”.

Some of my personal worst fears were played out in front of me this year as life moved on post-divorce. This was always going to happen, it is part of the natural passage of time and I daresay that there will be yet more sucker-punch “firsts” to come which cause a sharp intake of breath. I was hurting. A lot. But I soaked it up, got through it and have realised that my mental health is actually lot stronger than I had previously given myself credit for. Over the last 18 months to 2 years, the modus operandi was to continue hanging on by a very thin thread, but now I somehow find myself with a thick rope in my hands and I’m able to get some purchase on it to pull myself back up. 

If you’re still struggling to find your positives in the picture, don’t be afraid to look closer at a granular level, because I promise you: they’re there. In the moments. So many moments. Off the top of my head and in no particular order: running through swirling cherry blossom petals on an otherwise still day, seeing wild otters playing, the red squirrel running down the centre of the street in Grasmere, seeing Carmen after weeks apart during lockdown, cooling my feet in a stream whilst writing, blipfoto, joint construction of a playlist, the mink, the tortoise being taken for a walk, blip friends comments likes and favourites, smiling whilst running, a lover’s gasp, Hamilton Hamilton Hamilton, stickers in the piano book, pouring sand from shoes, the sun rise at Grey Crag, walks with Simmo, lunches with Russ, hot chocolate on the beach, singing Hamilton in the car, my son’s reassuring hand on my shaking mourning shoulder, the birth of the Fearless Three at Crummock Water, the light in the backyard, reconnecting with Maria, supportive words from omni-present family, splashing in puddles, kingfisher spotting, Owen’s excitement at the woodpecker, Matilda’s defiance of the will of the universe (too many occasions to list), Carmen’s Christmas present to me and her reaction to mine to her, the wee ones properly giggling uncontrollably at my generic Russian voice in the mornings, their own recent brilliance at improvising, crying to release pain and through fear, love, joy happiness and laughter, still being here.

The mass deaths, widespread pain and disruption you can keep, but thank you 2020 for those pricks of light in the darkness and for granting me the strength to deal with you.

“Life doesn't discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway
We rise and we fall
And we break
And we make our mistakes
And if there's a reason I'm still alive
When so many have died
Then I'm willin' to-
Wait for it”

‘Wait For It’ from Hamilton by Lin-Manuel Miranda