Dear 2020,

There are so many things I want to say to you. First I want to give thanks. Thanks for bringing me my son, Ryder who was born on January 5th, 2020. His due date was in 2019 and I so desperately wanted him to be born in 2019. Now I’m glad he wasn’t. Before his birth, there was something about 2020 that sounded so futuristic and strange to me. But alas, he was born in 2020 and I am happy about this. He is a reason I wake up and celebrate each day. As the days weave together he brings me something new and something to look forward to. Was this how I expected my first year of motherhood to look like?…no…Is there a “village” and support during a global pandemic?…no…but we are managing. It is hard but I am grateful.

As grateful as I am, I’m also mourning. You took my Grandaddy away. You took him away before he got to meet my son. I dreamed about the day he would be able to meet his one and only great-grandson, but you took that from us. There is a deep wound and I will never forgive you for this loss. Along with Grandaddy, you took away my God Mother, Aunt Susan. You let her die alone with this horrid virus. We lost so much of our history when you took these beautiful humans away. I know I am not the only one suffering from loss and that pains me even more.

As I write this letter my brain is buzzing with memories and thoughts from this past year. It’s hard for me to stick with one thought because there is so much to say but not enough room to process it all, at least not yet. I think that is the essence of you, 2020. There has been so much, but at the same time, there hasn’t been enough…

I know dear 2021 won’t take away my grief. I also know 2021 takes away my baby because he will soon be 1 and that brings a different kind of sadness. So fuck you, and thank you, I am making peace with you, I will never forget you, but I’m not quite ready to forgive you, 2020.

Peace,
Hannah