I had a funny Christmas.
It was sweet and peaceful in a lot of ways. Lots of quality time with my mom. But weird things kept happening. I walked over to a friend’s apartment on Thursday morning to drop off a gift. She’s not big on celebrating Christmas, but she knows that the holiday is special to me.
“How’s your Christmas?” she asked. “OK,” I responded. As I did, I surprised myself by starting to cry on the street.
Something similar happened on Christmas night. My oldest friend, Chloe, called me around 8pm. She told me she just wanted to hear my voice and asked how my day had been. “It was nice,” I said. And then, “I miss you so much.”
And then I burst into tears.
That’s how the last couple days have gone. I’m basically fine, but the moment I see something poignant on social media, recall a holiday memory, or talk to a good friend, I can feel my eyes welling up. I’m happy and bright at the surface, with a lot of emotion moving around beneath.
I think this speaks volumes about how so many of us have survived the past year. We’re hanging in, doing our best, and functioning (sort of) normally from day to day. But we’ve had to bottle up so much grief and fear and sadness and anxiety just to get by.
My hope for the new year is that we’ll all be able to let some of this go. I hope that things improve for the world, for all of us. And when they do, I hope that each one of us can lay down some of what we’ve had to carry for the last twelve months, consciously and unconsciously.
I think I always make a comment at this time of year expressing my bewilderment at how quickly the year has gone by. But really, I can’t believe it’s almost the end of 2020. The last twelve months have often felt endless in their monotony, but it also feels like yesterday that I was sitting at home in the first few days of lockdown, wondering how long it would last.
Too long, obviously. Much too long. But I made it this far, and if you’re reading, you did, too.
Here’s to brighter, lighter days ahead.
This virtual community has given my life joy and strength and meaning long before all community got taken online. I’m so grateful, always. But this year especially.
Happy Sunday, friends. Here are some recipes and reads.
It’s chilly in NYC, and I’m gazing longingly at Lucy’s cozy wild mushroom soup.
I can’t eat soup without bread, so it’s fitting that I’ve also been eyeing Sophie’s whole grain protein bread.
Very beautiful wild rice stuffed squashes.
I love the looks of this simple, vibrant green couscous salad.
Christmas is over, but my need to bake festive cookies is not. I love the looks of Lindsay’s vegan amaretti cookies (made with aquafaba).
1. NPR’s report on children’s wishlists to Santa this year is another thing that made me cry.
2. I loved this profile of Chawne Kimber, a quilter who weaves themes of social justice into her works.
3. Akilah Johnson and Nina Martin’s long form piece on how and why Covid-19 took a devastating toll on young black men is so important.
4. A sad, harrowing, and beautiful reflection on one wife’s promise to her husband and the illness that tested it—written by their son.
5. Some of the biggest science stories of 2020.
I’ll be checking in here with a recipe or two this week. But I’m taking this moment to wish all of you a hopeful start to the new year we’ve been waiting for.
Happy New Year to you. And may all beings living be happy and free.
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