2020 Wrap-Up

What can be said about 2020 that hasn’t already been said? It was a rough year, but we had it better than most. The biggest impact was we had to cancel two vacations with my step-kids: their summer trip and a fall trip to England. It was depressing, especially as we had not seen them since the summer of 2019 and they are still young. However, they are with us now for the winter holidays and we are extremely grateful. Vacation disappointment aside, we are most grateful that all of our family ( and friends as far as I’m aware) have stayed healthy. There has been job loss and hardship, but people are healthy.

We spent most of the year sheltering in our home, which we bought in November 2019. We are settled, but it still feels new. We have met many of our neighbors, who are wonderful and are new friends. It was even possible to have some socially distanced events with them in the summer. I’m constantly reminded about how lucky we are to have ended up in Sterling Ranch. I love it here.

We had our garden completed in the spring, including a gate to connect with our neighbor’s yard. I tried to plant flowers and I managed to kill half of them. I do not have a green thumb, but I like to try!

We took a few trips, two to Florida ( where we nearly bought a vacation property), a California/Nevada/New Mexico road trip, and several shorter vacations around Colorado. We visited Breckenridge, Vail, and Colorado Springs. In Colorado Springs we biked down Pike’s Peak, which was one of the most thrilling and perhaps dangerous things I have ever done.

At the end of this year, we will be taking a road trip to Florida. I’m still not sure of our route, but before the end of the year, I will see a few more new-to-me states. I believe I will see Texas and Louisiana! I want to eat in a real Texas road house.

Other than Covid, the presidential election was a big event. I was thrilled that Biden/Harris won and I feel hopeful that life will be better in 2021.

I was published in Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine, which was a really big deal for me. I also joined a writer’s group where I feel a bit intimidated, but it is good for me.

I didn’t read as much as I wanted, but I improved my cooking skills. Before Covid, we were on a successful workout schedule, but when the gyms closed, we started on evening cocktails and cakes. We are getting a home gym in March, so I’m anticipating a return to healthy habits in 2021. In the meantime, I’m being forgiving of myself. I’m going to enjoy all of the chocolate!

There isn’t much more to add. It was a low-key year and one to feel thankful for all we have. I don’t take for granted our health or fortune in life. I hope that 2021 will bring us back to a sense of normalcy.

Intima: Crossroads Blog

I recently had the joy of learning that author Michael Lund picked my essay, “Weight” to reflect upon in his recent post that was published in Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine’s Crossroads Blog.

My essay detailed my grief and complicated emotions after my beloved aunt’s death in 2013. Lund’s fictional short story “Bees” involves grief that comes from a terminal diagnosis. Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine offers an interesting opportunity via its Crossroads Blog. It asks those who are published in the current issue of Intima to write a blog article that connects their contribution with that of a previous submission. Lund’s story was published in the Fall 2020 edition of Intima and he connected to my Spring 2020 story.

I also contributed to Crossroads, when I reflected on artist Inés Ixierda’s drawing “Fasciotomy” from the Spring 2016 edition. One of the missions of Intima is to facilitate communication and understanding between patients/caregivers/medical professionals. This fits well with the concept of connecting unrelated submissions in the Crossroads Blog.

I have to admit that I had never heard of Intima prior to discovering them through Submittable and taking a chance that “Weight” might be a good fit. I was thrilled to be published in Intima, but even more, it has led me to discover new artists and writers. The idea of a medical journal might send some people away, thinking it is not for them, but as someone who is not in the medical field, I find Intima to be very accessible. All of us humans go through grief and pain. A majority of us will experience our own medical problems or be caretakers for people that we love. Intima is a platform for conversations around these issues. I encourage you to check it out.

As a sweet bonus, Lund’s blog was posted on Veteran’s Day. Lund is a Veteran and he also teaches creative writing to a Veteran’s group. He couldn’t have known it, but this holiday also has a connection with my family. Although “Weight” is primarily about my Aunt Trudy, it is also connected to my Uncle Larry. My aunt and uncle had an epic love story and both passed in 2013. The grief from my aunt’s passing and the difficulties in carrying for her in her last months, we most certainly compounded from losing my Uncle. He passed in April and she passed in December. My uncle was a Navy veteran and they are buried together at Riverside National Cemetery in California. Prior to learning about Lund’s post, I had been thinking about my uncle and missing him on Veteran’s Day.

I will close with a picture of my aunt and uncle on their wedding day in Las Vegas. They are loved and very much missed.

Hidden Trauma

I was thrilled to have my essay “Weight” published in the Spring 2020 edition of Intima: A Journal of Narrative Medicine. In the essay, which I wrote during my time at the UCLA Extension Fiction Writer’s Program, detailed my conflicting emotions in the wake of my aunt’s death in 2013.

Intima gave me a second publishing opportunity as a contributor to their Crossroads Blog. The concept of the blog is to have those published in the current edition of Intima, pick a previous contributor and make a connection between the works. Intima’s mission is to foster communication, connection, and understanding.

I picked a drawing by Bolivian artist Inés Ixierda called “Fasciotomy.” Ixerda’s drawing spoke to my feelings about my aunt’s sudden femur break and the immense pain that she experienced in the final years of her life.

Clink here for a link to my blog post- “Hidden Trauma.”

In both my essay and blog response, I mention my Aunt Trudy’s beauty and glamour. To this end, I wanted to post a few more of my favorite pictures of her. It’s so easy to be left with unpleasant final memories of a loved one, especially under strained circumstances, but I also like to remember the vibrant life that my aunt led prior to her injuries. She was fun and the life of the party.

This is my absolute favorite picture of my aunt! I wish I was that cool and I want her boots!

A picture of my aunt in Hawaii in 1968. Her stunning legs prior to their devastating injury. I’m reminded that the accident didn’t define her and those legs kept her dancing, playing golf, and generally enjoying life for far more years than they caused her pain.