The holidays are different this year. To some, the holidays feel different this year. Some may say they just don’t feel that yuletide spirit. Others may propose it is a year to bring on extra cheer (in the form of Christmas lights or a decked out tree, for example). No matter where your heart lies across this spectrum, it is true that — across the board — the holidays are different this year. When I step into the grocery store or as I drive down the road, I still feel somewhat jarred at the sight of everyone wearing a mask. Who would have ever imagined it? My oldest daughter is three and wears her mask without issue. It’s become normal to her, which is simultaneously reassuring and sad. It’s reassuring because I know she doesn’t mind wearing it; it’s sad because it’s her norm. Ever the optimist, I know this situation is temporary. I do see the light at the end of the tunnel…but (if I’m being honest) it is still just a prickle of light so far. It’s there, though.

What I have learned through this pandemic and what I will choose to take away from it lies deep in my heart. And it’s the importance of my family and friends. Never more has it been more important to stay in touch, or “check on the strong ones.” Never more have I craved the scent of my grandmother’s perfume. I’ll never again take for granted the ability to drop in on relatives. “Hey, I want to pass by. Are you home?” We can’t do that sort of thing right now. Life is now sterile. And it has to be that way; it is what it is. But I crave the spontaneity of our past lives. I crave the thump of music at a football game. I crave saying “CHEERS!” and hearing the clinking of glass.

I hope that all of us, as a global community, learn from what we’ve been through. It’s like a region just hit by a catastrophic hurricane…it tends to bring people closer to one another. This pandemic has affected the entire planet. I hope that we’ll look back and say, “We made it!”…through the clinking of glass.