John keeps telling me that he needs to retire—from something. Since he can’t retire from his job yet he thought he should retire from writing the Christmas letter. We basically have this argument every year. He says he has nothing for the letter and I say I’ll do the letter for him and he can do all the rest of Christmas for me. In the end he writes the letter. But this is 2020; nothing is normal; so I let him retire. This is bad news for all of you since that means you are stuck with me this year, but since it is 2020, it kinda seems fitting.
Our year did not start smoothly, as I ditched my husband for New Years and went to Oregon where my dad was running out of time, while at home John looked into cheap and less invasive options for hernia surgery, back alleys excluded. Turns out to be cheaper in Utah, so that’s where we headed right after I got home. He convalesced for a few days at his parents before we returned to the frozen north.
After nearly six years of valiant effort, Hannah left her human roommate in favor of a feline companion. She adopted Sir Charles Sawyer Dibble after moving to Springville, which meant the added benefit of a much shorter commute to the Art Museum. A couple of covid tests for her but both negative.
On February 14 my dad passed away. In a last second decision, I left my Valentine and flew back to Oregon. I arrived a little too late but that was okay. Dad had been waiting a long time to join my mom and doing so on Valentine’s Day seemed appropriate. I spent time sorting files and preparing for the funeral. With a twist of fates, John and I both ended up speaking at the funeral on Leap Day. John had a dying tooth and could barely open his mouth, but a blessing helped him get through the talk and a little tooth surgery after getting home got rid of the pain. Covid talk was picking up, but our essential travel was completed before restrictions kicked in. Already I had said that 2020 was looking to be a year our family couldn’t wait to put behind us. By the end of March most of the world felt the same.
John’s classes shifted to remote abruptly in March and continued so, though in fall he taught some “flex” courses that combine remote and classroom modes for “maximum distraction”. John says remote alone seems better, (with more to come in 2021), though “students’ frail attention spans are suffering further collapse.” Despite my refusing to take a vacation, John managed to squeeze in a couple wilderness hiking trips. His whole family gathered via Zoom to celebrate his dad’s 80th birthday in November. No Covid tests.
Hailey got a new job in Nampa, so she and Jordan sold their house here amazingly fast and moved amid the pandemic lockdowns. Hailey, the social butterfly, felt 2020: no regular church meetings, no meeting the neighbors, no social outlets. Jordan, the social recluse, found heaven working from home and not having to deal directly with humans; he’s practiced for a pandemic for years. Zero covid tests for them.
Brooke was scheduled for surgery on her vocal folds in April but Covid delayed it till June during the lone one week when U of U hospital allowed a visitor, so I got to be there. But just short weeks into her recovery she had complications resulting in a middle-of-the-night ambulance trip to the ER while I blissfully slept through the texts she sent us. Brooke will tell you that not being able to breathe is very unpleasant; she recommends we all mask up to prevent experiencing it with Covid. Also, calling for an ambulance is interesting when you have no voice. The ER got her breathing better and then Hannah drove her to SLC to see her surgeon. And since Brooke’s condition made speech impossible, Hannah was allowed to stay to be her voice until her throat cleared enough to speak. Tests indicated an autoimmune disease which attacks the nose and throat, currently in remission, but medication adjustments continue. Ironically, as she studies to be a speech therapist, she’s ended up in speech therapy herself. It is lovely to hear her voice again; also kind of essential for being a speech therapist. Between hospital visits and working in a skilled nursing facility for an externship this fall, Brooke is the champ of Covid tests. She’s had about a million. All negative, thankfully.
Things probably changed the least for me. I still tend three toddlers each weekday; John sneaks down to play when he can. My 2020 oddity has been working with my brother to settle dad’s estate. Amazing how slowly everything moves during a pandemic. I feel like we are working with sloths. No Covid tests.
We pray your 2020 wasn’t too 2020 and that you are happy, healthy, and feeling love from our Savior.
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