As sense of normalcy returns, gratitude will endure
“One day this is going to be over — can you imagine that day? How we’ll come out into the sun and laugh and hug and sing and dance and hold hands? I’m living for that day. It’ll be like nothing we’ve experienced before.”
This quote, from author Glennon Doyle, singlehandedly kept me going throughout this pandemic. We are almost there. We might as well be there. Everything is starting to open back up. With spring comes new life, in more than the usual ways this year.
My first month or so back at work, almost daily I had people sit down at my tables with radiant joy painted all over their faces as they told me how excited they were to be back inside a restaurant for the first time in almost a whole year.
It was so beautiful to witness. I felt the exact same way being back at work. I still do, in case you were wondering.
It’s been a few months now, and everyone seems to be back to the regular hustle and bustle of life, eager to forget what the nation just went through, collectively.
Not me.
I’ve always been big on gratitude and tiny moments of joy, but this pandemic has taken that to new levels. I’m not sure I will ever be the same, and I think this is a good thing.
I guess at some point, life has to return to normal and people need to move on, but do we really need to stop being grateful that we can eat at restaurants again? Do we need to forget that restaurant workers spent the greater part of a year being unemployed?
Do we need to stop being patient and understanding with service not being up to par due to a nationwide staffing shortage in restaurants? Do we need to stop tipping well? Do we need to stop being nice to other humans? Do we need to stop going out of our way to support local restaurants and artists and our neighbors?
Can’t we keep the joy and the gratitude and the patience and understanding flowing?
We can. And we should.
This pandemic isn’t quite over, but many of us are vaccinated and able to hug our loved ones again. We are able to do so many things we weren’t able to do for an entire year, and do them safely. My prayer I send out to the universe daily is that we never forget this past year, and that we are all collectively better humans because of it.
I’m taking my newfound safety and moving back to the Midwest in a week so I can finally hug my family again. This pandemic has definitely given me a sense of urgency to be closer to the ones I love. I will never forget my time in Santa Fe and all the amazing souls here who have touched my heart these past five years. What a beautiful life!
Making It Through is a column by those in the workforce who are dealing with the e≠ects and changes brought on by the coronavirus pandemic. Jen Stillions is a hospice volunteer, a professional photographer and was a waitress at Harry’s Roadhouse for four years.