March 10, 2020, is the day I made a firm decision about myself and my life. It was a transport day, and as I sat at the table photographing dogs, I took notice of one of my favorite volunteers as she carried her foster dog our way before putting him on the van. This foster mom was normally all smiles and conversation at transport, but on that day, she was subdued and uncharacteristically quiet.
As I watched her, I thought, She doesn’t feel well. I don’t know if it’s something physical or her mood, but something isn’t right.
And though almost everybody I’d talked to since December about this weird virus seemed to think I was blowing it out of proportion, it all felt eerily familiar, like another pandemic I’d been through.
I’d told my employer in January that I wanted to stop the volunteer photography, and they were trying to develop a photo team to replace me. I could no longer handle the weather extremes, and we’d gone from one to two transports a week. I felt constantly tired and stressed out. I realized that any transport day, any one could stop and talk to me without either of us aware one of us was sick and contagious.
March 10 was the day I decided I was officially finished photographing animals at transport. My actual job could be done from home, and I intended to self-quarantine and research any guidelines I could find from scientists and medical professionals about this corona virus. My decision was later supported by my doctors.
It’s been a long, challenging year. I tried not to make COVID (or racism, or politics) the only things I talked about here or in conversations with friends and family. Some adjustments were easy; others weren’t. I was laid off in April, but I’ve always had many ways to occupy my time. I’m more resilient in some ways than I used to be.
I have a lot of masks. More dolls. More coloring books. A lot of books I haven’t read. Some new music. I’ve purged a lot of excess things that took up space. I’ve given away coloring books and pages to people I thought would like them. I’ve delved into my past for tangible items to display that bring me comfort and happiness. I’ve made some new art to give away.
I know a wider range of people on social media than I used to. I’ve reconnected with old friends, and worried about other, quieter friends. My hair has grown uncolored and uncut for over a year. I’ve lost twelve pounds. I’ve mourned the death of a beloved friend as well as a neighbor who I greatly admired. We’ve been through an extensive bathroom repair, a different kind of hurricane season, and that ridiculous cold snap that still leaves us with unfinished home repairs. Our dogs are fine. Our living situation is fine. I still enjoy it that Tom is working from home.
I’ve accomplished nothing earth-shattering, and I’ve had feelings shattered in unexpected ways. I hope I never get too old and jaded to discover new and wonderful things, but I also realize I’ll never be so old that I won’t be surprised by the grim actions of others.
My ultimate selfie of the past year is this one, because I am sure THIS IS THE FACE I MAKE WHEN I READ DUMB SHIT AND RIDICULOUS PEOPLE ONLINE. It is the expression of an annoyed Ram who does not suffer fools.
So here I am, imperfectly me, a year later. I’m certainly more hopeful about the future, and eager for vaccinations to help me reunite with people. It’ll be a while, but that moment is more real to me than it has been for twelve months.
I wish everyone the best physical, mental, and emotional health, and I hope that you, too, feel more optimistic.
P.S. Please don’t give me a reason to give you The Becky Look.™