This time last year.
This time last year.
This time last year.
This time last year.
This time last year,
I went to work.
My students were all talking about this new virus.
It had just made its way to the U.
S.
Before it was something out there.
Something over there.
And now it was here.
I remember I came into class to teach and I was wearing plastic gloves.
College campuses can be a wee bit dirty.
And I was concerned because I'd spent half of 2019 ill.
And my fear was at its height.
Some of my students laughed at me.
Oh my God,
Professor Tracy,
What are you doing?
You really got gloves on?
What's next?
You gonna come in here with a mask?
Oh my God.
Ha ha ha ha.
Is it really that deep?
It was that deep.
This time last year,
I went to go pick up my daughter from school.
And she would normally stay in aftercare.
Where she'd play with the other kids and most likely exchange bodily fluids.
As third graders are wont to do.
Ha ha ha.
But that day I said,
No after school.
Maybe in a couple of weeks when all of this is over,
Sweetie.
In a couple of weeks when it's all over.
This time last year,
I went home and did what I would normally do.
Cook dinner,
Help Kay with her homework.
Finish an essay or three.
Watch This Is Us or Million Little Things or whatever Netflix series I happen to be behind on.
Maybe I'd read a book that night.
Take a bath.
Maybe hubby and I would talk about some dream we had or fuss about some dream we had.
We'd all done this a thousand times before.
Only this time last year,
Unbeknownst to me,
My daughter,
My partner.
We would never go back to doing those things that we had done a thousand times before.
At least so far we haven't.
Our routine was obliterated.
Our life altered.
Every day since then,
My family has tried to make sense of what has happened and adapt to this new masked,
Socially distanced way of moving through the world.
This time last year,
We thought it was only going to be two weeks,
Maybe a month.
And I cry hot,
Angry tears when I think about the over 500,
000 people who didn't make it over.
This time last year,
There were 500,
000 more people walking and breathing and living on this earth.
Many of whom should still be here.
And now,
A year later,
Through despite because of my tears,
I'm also incredibly grateful.
We survived.
You survived.
We walk and breathe and live on this earth right now,
The best we know how.
The toll the pandemic has taken on all of us has been greater than anything that we could have ever imagined.
Whether your story includes the emotional and spiritual and mental upheaval that comes with isolation and loneliness,
Or just the grief and worry that comes with thinking about family and friends who are at risk,
Or the economic challenges of lost jobs or lost contracts.
There has been a collective trauma we've all endured in varying degrees,
Sure.
And will likely be healing from this for years to come.
So a year later,
I encourage you to pay close attention to your body this week and the next.
We know,
Or maybe even we have read that the body keeps the score.
And so we know that sometimes we'll experience pain and anxiety,
Seemingly out of the blue,
Right?
All because our bodies remember a trauma that we choose not to think about,
Choose not to deal with.
So a year later,
Extend yourself some grace if you are suddenly irritable or just straight up angry or sad.
I get it.
I really,
Really get it.
Double down on your self-care and healing rituals,
Especially if you find yourself experiencing unexpected physical pain.
We often don't get to know what our bodies are remembering and responding to.
But this time,
This year,
We have a clear marker.
So let's pay attention.
And be well.
