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The Extreme Unknown: 2021 Year-in-Review & Thoughts for 2022

Here are a couple of earlier year-in-review posts:

This one’s going to be a little different. I will write up my catalogue of great stuff that happened but I want to give some space to the hard stuff first.

My family has definitely been playing the pandemic on easy mode, as it were, but I have hit a wall of not hopelessness exactly, but grim resignation. Resignation specifically to the fact that things will keep shifting, that it will probably get worse before it gets better, that making plans based on timing of perceived lowered risk (for example, When-My-Kid-Is-Vaccinated) is more likely to lead to disappointment than not. Resignation to the extreme unknown.

Anticipating a year of shifts, the only goal I set was for the first quarter off 2021: to complete and defend my dissertation. I did it! Goal achieved! Setting such a straightforward goal means I can feel good about how I spent my time this year.

I only set a word for the first quarter, which was PLAY and I have no idea how I did with that.

I did some great stuff in addition to defending my dissertation this year:

  • I made extensive use of the public library. My kid actually bumped up against the checkout limit.
  • I got vaccinated and boosted.
  • I got my thyroid managed and hit my target lab results for the first time in the 10 years since my Hashimoto’s diagnosis.
  • I consulted for Quirkos and developed content for their blog.
  • I organized a FanLIS panel for the Fan Studies Network North America conference.
  • I got and swam in a mermaid tail.
  • I had a pool party for my 40th birthday.
  • I presented at MIRA, Micro Camp, ALISE, and World View.
  • I took M to swim lessons.
  • I embraced my Trekkie nature.
  • I applied for, was offered, and accepted my dream postdoc.

I couldn’t have done these things without immense help:

  • from my advisor & committee.
  • from W’s mom, who provided me with time for both work and rest.
  • from W, who provided for my basic material needs, kept the house clean, continued to be an awesome dad, and made me feel good about myself.

If there was a theme for this year, it was Star Trek. The Next Generation was a balm in the weeks after my grandmother’s death. Lower Decks, Discovery, and Prodigy revitalized my love of Trek. Discovery, in particular, helped me remain hopeful and trust in my values as a guide for living.

(My core values, by the way, are curiosity, creativity, and care.)

I’m doing a New Year New Moon retreat with Katy Peplin on January 2nd, so I will probably dig into my dreams and plans for 2022 then.

For now, I’ll say my word of the year for 2022 is MEND. My goal is to keep going.

I just finished the midseason finale of #StarTrekDiscovery and I thought it was beautifully done. Space family talking through problems is my fave. This is SOCIAL science fiction. ❤️ Replies may contain spoilers. 📺🖖🏻

Me, watching STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION and seeing a newborn in a glass bassinet in sickbay with the birthing parent nowhere in sight: “What, in the 24th century there’s no rooming in?” (Rooming in wasn’t common in 1990 but it was a thing by 1994.) 📺🖖🏻

I just watched the SHORT TREKS episode “Q & A” and it has me really excited for STRANGE NEW WORLDS. 📺💻🖖🏻

🔖 Read How your brain copes with grief, and why it takes time to heal.

This time last year, my grandmother was in the hospital. She’d been non-responsive for several days but had just started indicating that she was aware of what was going on around her. She recovered enough to talk to my mom on the phone and to be transferred to hospice. She died on January 2. I didn’t go to her memorial service because it was in a county with a very high COVID-19 positivity rate. Not gathering with my people has delayed my grieving significantly.

Mostly, at times when I would normally call her, I forget that she died until I start working out the logistics. I wanted to invite her to watch my dissertation defense. My graduation. To call her and tell her about the postdoc.

I only called her for big things: getting engaged, being present, Christmas, her birthday. There are many granddaughters more communicative than I ever was. But I made sure she always knew about the big moments.

I have to trust that if her spirit persists in some form, she still knows about the big moments. But it’s really hard not to actually hear her talking to me about it.

It’s hard knowing I’ll never again sit in her bedroom and talk with her and my mom late into the night, or lie in bed and watch TV with her until we both fall asleep, or sit out by her pool, or insist she come to the beach. Never amble about the little neighborhood market Wal-Mart around the corner from her house with her picking out groceries, or go to the Chinese buffet with her. There are so many little mundane things that I miss.

She didn’t die of COVID-related illness, but it’s COVID that kept me from seeing her for a scheduled visit in April 2020, that kept my mom from rushing down to Florida to bring her here to visit before Christmas or to be at her bedside when she was in the hospital.

I really appreciate how this article ends by urging people to remember that those of us who have lost loved ones in the past 21 months have traded everyone’s safety for the last moments with the people we love, and that in making that trade we have shifted our own grieving processes in ways we’re still discovering.