With 2020, the year of COVID-19 rapidly drawing to a close, the world waits with cautious optimism for 2021.
There is, of course, so many maybes.
Maybe they will come up with a vaccine. Maybe people will be able to travel safely. Maybe the number of cases will drop.
Meanwhile we still must get through the rest of 2020.
November and December are yet to be written.
Yes, unfortunately, we are still stuck in a year that will go down in history as a really bad year. COVID-19 has pierced many of us with its own unique barbs of health, financial and emotional worry.
But, even as the pandemic continues to rear its ugly head, life goes on.
As for me, I am still struggling with the usual; being late, losing stuff, eating crap, watching too much Netflix and procrastination.
I actually made it to church on time, Sunday. There I was sitting in a pew, the only human being in that pew, 10 minutes before the service began.
Truly, it was a miracle and I felt blessed that I did not cross paths with any police officers en-route to my place of worship as my speedometer crept up the closer it got to 10 a.m.
The freedom of worship, even during COVID is certainly a blessing not to be taken lightly. Masks and social distancing are mandatory, and no one dares lift their voice up in song, off key or not.
I enjoyed a couple of other cool blessings Sunday.
After a quick visit with my sister and my brother-in-law after church where we discussed important things like family news and less important things like politics, I stopped by the mall where my oldest granddaughter is working.
I want to spend more time with my grandchildren.
Oh, it’s not like I want them to ask me soul searching questions like, ‘grandma, what is the meaning of life and is The Calgary Flames really a better hockey team than The Edmonton Oilers like Uncle Devin says?
I just want them to be happy to see me, happy enough to put away their phones.
I know that is ridiculous, but it would be nice, wouldn’t it?
But I swear when my granddaughter saw me behind her post at the cashier’s desk, her eyes, her expressive lovely eyes, which I could see clearly over her mask, lit up.
“I can go for coffee at 1:30, grandma,” she said.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll wait.”
And so, I waited. By the time we got our ice caps, she had six minutes of her 15-minute break left.
And so, we chatted.
And it was worth it. Every single minute.
Treena Mielke is a central Alberta writer. She lives with her family in Sylvan Lake.