Actually, Yes, I think I need to say a LOT more, lol!

The year started auspiciously enough, with the four of us ringing in New Years from our condo in Keystone. Our location was perfect, as we had an uncrowded and unobstructed view of the New Years Eve fireworks over Keystone Lake, right from our own balcony. We had spent a fabulous Christmas week here as well, enjoying several unique experiences like an evening sleigh ride to a western themed dinner on a ranch, a snowshoe hike to the Halleluiah Hut, and exploring the Dillon Ice Castles. We had been thoroughly making use our new weekend home here, spending almost every weekend in what felt like a winter paradise. We would typically drive up Friday night, and stay until early Monday morning, when work called us back home. We skied during the day, hit the bar for drinks and dinner after, then wrapped up the evening at the pool and hot tub. It felt a lot like being on vacation for almost 30% of every week.

It had been fun starting the year before to watch the changes that the resort went through during the seasons. The warm, sunny, and busy days of summer had slowly given way to fall. The air turned cool and crisp, and things became quiet once again. It was nice for a few weeks during that time to feel like we had the place to ourselves. As the first snow came and the lifts began to open, it slowly sprang back to life, the number of people increasing gradually with each passing weekend. And then it was Christmas, and suddenly it was overun, packed in like sardines everywhere, more people than you could imagine possibly fitting in one resort at one time. But it was okay and every one was happy anyway, because, SNOW. And then it just kept coming, more and more snow, piling up and up, over the tops of windows and so deep that it was hard to imagine even the most fiery inferno ever being able to melt it all. I had really come to love all the versions of Summit County. It felt like home. There was an eerie feeling though, that this was too good to last, and we voiced this concern at least a few times during the winter. Of course it didn’t stop us from basking in the glory while we did have it. 

Owen was on the Breckenridge Ski Team, and practiced with them every Sunday. He had a couple of competitions in January and February, and won second place in the downhill racing competition for his age group! He had become quite the shredder – routinely seeking out the hardest and most difficult terrain so that he could show off his mad skills to the often-leery bystanders. 

Lily was on a different path this winter though, and being heavily involved in extracurricular activities near home (theater, video production, etc), usually didn’t make the weekend trek to the mountains with us. She had applied for early graduation the previous fall, and was now starting her last semester of high school, with plans to attend Johnson & Wales University in Denver.

The first part of the year wasn’t all rainbows and butterflies though. We did have a string of bad luck with our trusty Outback, and on a couple of different weekends it left us stranded in the mountains, with no good way home. It was a strange electrical issue that no one seemed to be able to completely solve. On one occasion we ended up taking the Bustang Regional Bus back to Denver, turning what should have been a 90 minute commute into an almost all-day affair. 

On one particularly problematic weekend, we attempted to take the Bustang back to Keystone, being without the car. But because of weather, the bus turned back at Georgetown and returned us to Denver instead. We decided to sleep for a few hours, and try to make the trip in the Jeep early the next morning, as Owen had a ski competition that day. We made it in plenty of time, but unrelated heartbreak was about to unfold.

Once we arrived, we realized that our beloved 5-year old guinea pig Pika had suffered a stroke, and being early on a weekend morning, there were no vets open in all of Summit County. So there was nothing we could do but watch him struggle and try to provide what comfort we could until he passed about an hour later. He was such a personable little creature, and had really become part of the family. He definitely left some big shoes to fill. 

In mid-February, we finally decided that the Outback needed to be replaced. I went to the dealership by myself on a Friday afternoon hoping to have new wheels for the weekend. I made it happen, and we gave the new Outback a “proper” break in by heading the mountains in the middle of the year’s biggest snow storm. Several road closures, one avalanche,  and 7 hours later, we finally pulled into the parking lot at our condo around 2am, lol! (Of all the possible weekends, Lily had picked this one to come with us- ha!) On Sunday of that weekend, we drove over to Vail, and the boys got caught in the epically bad lift line that ended up making the news. But the snow was glorious. Lily and I spent the day snowshoeing, wandering the village, and hanging out at the Vail library. 

We had a new guinea pig to bring on our adventure this weekend (she spent much of the 7 hour car ride cuddled in Lily’s sweater) She was still just a baby, and we finally settled on the name Minnie Lu. I was skeptical that she would ever be able to live up to Pika’s personality, but it was fun to have a furry friend again. Over time we would bond as well, and she is now very much a part of the family. Just as noisy as Pika if not more so, and very opinionated about her snacks! She has us trained exceptionally well. (And yes, I’m aware that it should probably be the other way around.)

I had been working for almost two years on a Master’s degree in Data Analytics, and was now in my final semester. In preparation for job hunting in a few months, I started setting up profiles on LinkedIn, Indeed, etc. And sure enough, I started hearing from recruiters right away. But, not for data positions, as I had expected. It seemed the only thing that mattered to anyone was my experience in education. So, I was getting lots of hits about teaching jobs. I ignored most of them, as that wasn’t what I thought I was looking for.

However, one intrigued me enough to respond- it was supposed to part time and maybe temporary – just something I could fill some extra time with until graduation. It was at a very small private school that happened to be just down the street from us, working one-on-one with middle and high school students in science and math. And suddenly, I was employed, not feeling entirely sure of what I had just gotten myself into. Almost immediately, my hours went from the promised 15-20 per week, to over 30. But it was off to a good start, and I was glad to have stumbled onto it. It was very good for me to finally have a sense of purpose and accomplishment again – to feel like I was actually competent at something, and contributing somewhere in a meaningful way. 

I’ll always associate the start of that job with the beginning of what would ultimately define the year – within days of starting, the gossip “around the water cooler” had turned to the mysterious virus sweeping China, and rising fears that it might find its way here. I remember those first few weeks, with all of us just trying to keep our heads down and keep things stable and “normal” at school, quelling panic and doomsday talk as much as possible.

We carried on as usual at home – Lily and I attended the Spongebob Musical in Denver, Owen was still going to his basketball practices and games multiple times per week, we still skied on the weekends and hung out at crowded bars afterwards. All the while suspecting that this virus was closer than anyone seemed to want to admit at the time. But not really knowing how to do anything about it – we couldn’t even imagine at that point giving up the lifestyle we had come to know and love.

On Sunday, March 8, Brian and I skied together at Keystone while Owen was at ski team practice. He usually stayed and skied at Breck on Sundays, but had decided to ski with me today instead. We didn’t actually stay out too long, as the snow was terrible. I joked that I should have brought ice skates instead. Knowing there would be plenty more days to ski, with better conditions, we headed back after just a couple of hours. We had no idea on that sunny afternoon that it would end up being our last ski day of the season.

Then, on that Thursday evening, watching what we thought was a routine Denver Nuggets game on TV, it was announced in the second quarter that an NBA player (on the Utah Jazz) had tested positive for the virus, and shortly after, that the NBA was ending the season, effective immediately. The Nuggets game, already underway, was the last to be played. At least for me, that felt like the beginning of the end – the moment when I realized how “turned on its head” the world was about to be. For months afterwards I couldn’t even watch old clips of NBA games being played without getting that same sinking feeling in my stomach. 

Brian’s work and the kids’ school announced they were going fully remote that evening. My school was hoping to be able to stay open, as we were small and didn’t present the risk of the higher occupancy workplaces. We made a desperate trip to the grocery store at almost 9pm that night, after the flurry of social media posts showing long lines and empty shelves. We would be glad for that the next week. 

We still came to the mountains that weekend. Owen was supposed to have his “Big Mountain” Ski competition on that Saturday, March 14, the one he had been most looking forward to. But that was cancelled on Friday. They were still planning to practice on Sunday, which was the main reason we drove up. Brian had been worried he was coming down with some sort of cold, so we opted not to ski at all on Saturday, and did a snowshoe hike on Swan Mountain instead.

By Saturday afternoon, all of the ski areas had announced they were closing indefinitely at the end of the day, as a new report had come out warning of a massive outbreak in Summit County. All residents and visitors were urged to quarantine for two weeks due to likely exposure. In a bit of a panic, we tried to gather up our stuff quickly and head home, having no reason to stay any longer. I remember pulling out of the parking lot of the condo that afternoon, tears almost welling up as I looked back at the building, not knowing what the next few weeks would hold, or how long it would be before we were back at our favorite home. The world suddenly felt so unstable. At the time I was heartbroken to think it might be 3 or 4 weeks. It would end up being almost 3 months. 

We decided to drive back over Loveland Pass, thinking the interstate might be a mess with the sudden exodus from the mountains. We’ve been over the pass more times  than I can count, and it had never bothered me before. However, as we neared the top, I suddenly felt like there was a pile of bricks on my chest. Why was it so hard to get a breath in? I tried not to panic, but sudden respiratory distress at a time when a respiratory pandemic is taking hold is understandably cause for alarm. Fortunately it subsided as we came back down, and I didn’t give it much more thought. At least not for the next 24 hours or so. Brian was feeling decidedly sick by the time we got home, but I was still naively hopeful that it was just a cold. 

The next day was a rare weekend day at home, and not really knowing what else to do with myself, I set about a major cleaning of most of the house. It was fortuitous timing, as I wouldn’t feel up to cleaning anything for several more weeks. On Monday, I woke up feeling a bit “off”, but wasn’t too concerned until around lunchtime, when Brian noticed I seemed feverish. (My boss wouldn’t let me come in to work because of the quarantine orders for Summit County.) Sure enough, my temperature was over 100. I took some Tylenol, still convinced it was nothing. Two hours later it was 103, and another dose of Tylenol didn’t phase it. There was also a growing tightness in my chest that I couldn’t otherwise explain. I think it was then that I had to face reality. I was sick. And so was Brian. 

For weeks, we had been telling the kids (both at home and at school) that the numbers coming out of China – the 4% fatality rate, were really nothing to be too worried about. “Was 4% of the population really going to die?”, they kept asking. But that was only if you actually got sick with symptoms, and that was still very, very unlikely – or so we kept assuring them. Suddenly, we WERE sick, with what we could only assume was the virus, and now we were staring that 4% down the barrel, rather than assuming it was some far-off statistic that didn’t apply to us. And our doctors wanted nothing to do with us. All they had to offer over the phone was the general advice to rest, hydrate, isolate, and call 911 if we thought we were dying. There were hardly any tests at all available at that point, and they were reserved for those working in health care, or patients  in the ICU. So we just had to hunker down and hope we got through it. 

The next 4 weeks would pass in a blur. A long, unpleasant blur.  The first week, the fever was the biggest challenge. I couldn’t keep it down. And it always brought with it a hopeless, bone-crushing fatigue. On so many afternoons, I would lay helplessly in bed, so miserable and uncomfortable, but unable to hardly move. I was pretty sure that even the house catching fire would not have been able to rouse me. By the second week, the fever was lower (though not gone), but my lungs were continuing to take a hit. Every single breath hurt. And sometimes it felt like I went minutes without being able to get a full breath in at all. The pile of bricks that I had felt on my chest as we came over the pass that night was back, this time to stay. You always take breathing for granted until you can’t do it effectively anymore. By the third and fourth week, the lung pain was starting to become intermittent – occasional sharp, stabbing pains rather than the constant dull ache. But enough to be incapacitating when they did strike. And my throat swelled up so much that I could barely talk or eat. Breathing was still far more of a challenge than it should have been.  It really did feel like we were facing our own mortality on so many nights – wondering if our lungs would hold out until morning, or if we would die in our sleep. 

And I don’t mean to be ignoring Brian’s symptoms during this time, he was doing just as poorly, if not worse than me. He did end up in the emergency room briefly at one point after having some heartbeat irregularities, but there was nothing they could do for him and told him to follow up with a cardiologist. 

It was hard to keep track of everyone. Honestly, I didn’t keep track of much during that time, including the kids. They fortunately seemed to be spared the majority of the symptoms. But I rarely knew what they were doing. I think they were both doing school online at that point, but it wasn’t something I could really pay attention to or help with. 

During these weeks we had watched the world change, mostly through the lens of social media. I think there was a Stay-At-Home order issued at one point, not that it mattered for us, as we were in full lockdown mode regardless. And debates about masks and ‘social-distancing”. It felt like such a disconnect watching how everyone else reacted to it though – my Facebook feed was full of people posting cute patterns for making masks, and boasting about their achievements at baking bread and making cute color-coded schedules for their kids. And proudly showing how good they were at overcoming boredom, as it was for the greater good and their own safety. “You’re not stuck at home, you are SAFE at home”, the internet kept telling me. Or, “It’s worth a little boredom to stay safe!” But it was too late for my own safety, and I didn’t have the luxury of boredom. 

Every day was a challenge to merely survive – to somehow get through the bare minimum of providing food for the family and keeping a handle on dishes and laundry. We relied completely on various delivery services to bring us food, and the demand far outmatched the supply. Delivery times were hard to come by. It was stressful, at a time when I could hardly manage stress at all. Oh, and I was trying (against better judgement) to work a few hours each day. My school had been forced to go remote shortly after I got sick. I wasn’t truly in condition to be teaching classes at all, but I was still the “new teacher”, and  so afraid that if I disappeared now, I’d never be put back on the schedule again. My boss was very accommodating though, and reduced my load significantly, and didn’t balk on the many days when I had to completely bail on all my classes at the last minute. 

To add insult to injury, being sick wasn’t my only challenge during this time. Unable to take my Rheumatoid arthritis medications, and with my immune system in overdrive anyway, it got bad. The worst it’s ever been. There were entire weeks when getting out of bed or walking across the room was an unimaginable task. Everything always hurt. Joints that I’m not even sure I realized existed before then would ache with an intensity I cannot describe in words. After several weeks, I begged my doctor for help, but of course all she could tell me was what I already knew – that I would have to make a calculated choice between the risk of permanent joint damage, and decreasing my immune response to the illness. 

On the night that I finally decided to go back onto the prednisone, I slowly and painfully maneuvered myself downstairs around 2am after not being able to sleep at all (my meds were in the kitchen). I wasn’t willing to face the stairs again so soon to go back up, so I fell onto the couch thinking I would rest a bit first. And quickly realized I was stuck – so swollen and stiff that I physically couldn’t get back up. Or reach my phone, which I had unfortunately left a few feet away. So I just laid there and cried, until I finally fell asleep, and Brian found me there in the morning. The prednisone did bring a little relief later that morning, and I would become frighteningly dependent on it for the next several months. I had thought that it was less risky than my Humira (the injectable medicine which attempts to alter your immune response, rather than just masking the symptoms, as steroids do). Studies a few months later would show that I made exactly the wrong decision. Oh well. I didn’t die. 

By late April I started feeling like maybe I was through the worst. I still had no endurance, and the occasional pangs in my lungs. Brian was recovering more slowly, and still had many bad days. It was hard to imagine ever feeling totally normal again. Around this time, Lily’s school surprised us all by declaring that the seniors were going to finish early – as long as they had all of their assignments for the week turned in, they were going to consider them graduated the next afternoon! On one of my first outings leaving the house (after 6 weeks), we picked up a small cake and flowers at Walmart to throw together an impromptu graduation lunch.

It all seemed so unfair though. We had been looking forward to graduation for months, so excited that she was graduating early, and she was even set to give a speech at the ceremony. We didn’t get an 8th grade graduation, as she moved to an online school a few months before the end of the year. It hadn’t bothered me too much at the time, as I knew high school graduation was the “real deal” anyway. But now that was taken from us as well. So I still haven’t gotten to see her walk across a stage. I can hope for college graduation, I guess. 

I also finished my Masters degree around this time, and it was made official with very little pomp and circumstance – just an online stream that briefly displayed my name for a few seconds. Fortunately I only had one class this semester, and it was just a group project that had taken blessedly little time or effort on my part. It was an unfortunate time to graduate with a degree in Data Analytics though. So many were being laid off, and no one was hiring. Certainly not hiring anyone with no real experience. But, at least I had the teaching job, hopefully I could hold onto it, and hopefully the pandemic wouldn’t be the death of our little school. 

In late May, we were feeling well enough to get out of the house a bit more. Still had to take it very easy, in small chunks, as to not get exhausted. We spent an afternoon at the Denver Botanical Gardens after they reopened from the shutdown, and finally made it back to our condo in Keystone. We just made a brief day trip the first time to check on things, not sure how we would handle the elevation and not willing to risk an overnight emergency yet. We were the only ones in the whole building that day, and it was bittersweet to be back. I had started to feel over the past months that it surely wasn’t even here anymore – we had abandoned it, and it was like a part of brain stopped believing in object permanence. So much had happened and changed since that afternoon when we left – there had been a sense of doom that day but we still had no idea what we were in for. Of course the snow was gone now, and spring had thoroughly taken hold. 

Owen went to a skateboard camp in Denver around this time too. It was technically a week before the governor allowed camps to begin, but it was a small group, they were only outdoors, and all wore masks. It was good to see some life coming back to the city, and to start feeling like we could participate in it again. 

By now I had gone back on the Humira, in an attempt to get my RA back under control, and not depend solely on the steroids.  Unfortunately, it wasn’t working. For years it had managed my RA fairly well, but perhaps getting sick had fundamentally changed something about my biochemistry, and now it was rendered useless. So, we played medication roulette, and tried a new one. I was warned it could take a few months to work though, and in the meantime, was still completely dependent on the prednisone. The refill nurse once balked at giving me another round, as I had filled the month before, what should have been a 3-month supply. But luckily my doctor intervened and set her straight. I hated it, but had no other option at the time. 

One big bummer of the year I haven’t mentioned yet is all of the travel plans we had. We usually travel a lot, but this year was going to be one for the books! For years, we had promised the kids that we would go back to Disneyland (in California) before Lily’s graduation, so we had that planned for March. Two weeks later, she was scheduled to go to Disney World (in Florida) with her school choir. And then in May she was going to New York with her theater group. Over the summer, was our long-awaited Mediterranean cruise! I had never traveled across the ocean before, and Owen was so excited to try “real” Italian pizza. We were also scheduled to make a side trip through England on the way home. And Owen had been excited for almost a whole year to go back to Camp Woodward over the summer – he had talked about it non-stop since his week there the summer before. And we were going to ring in New Years at Universal Orlando. Well, of course every one of these adventures fell victim to the pandemic, one by one. We tried to reschedule Disneyland a couple of times, thinking maybe they would be able to open back up by summer, and then by fall, but those both got canceled as well. And our favorite summer weekend hangout, WaterWorld didn’t open at all, so summer was looking especially bleak. 

By early June I was feeling so restless, I thought surely there was some kind of vacation we could pull off. We had lost so much, and been through so much, we just needed some kind of light at the end of the tunnel to look forward to. So, at a loss for other ideas, I planned a beach vacation to Sandestin, FL. We hadn’t been there since shortly after we were married, and thought it would be fun to show the kids. We were still not up for any type of strenuous or stressful adventure, and this seemed like the perfect way to relax, and easily stay away from crowds. 

The weekend before we were scheduled to leave, we came back up to our condo in Keystone. It was the first time we had stayed the night there since before getting sick. The boys brought their bikes – Brian finally feeling like maybe he was up to a couple of hours at the Frisco bike park. Lily and I dropped them off on Sunday morning, and headed to Target in nearby Silverthorne, as we had lots of shopping to get done, to prepare for our trip in just 6 days. We gathered up all the usual beach necessities, and were almost done checking out when my phone rang. It was Brian’s phone, so I assumed he was letting us know they were done. I handed it to Lily, and told her to talk to her dad while I finished and paid. But the conversation, from the end I was hearing, started out so strange. She was telling someone “No, this is her daughter, do you need to speak to her?”. And I laughed a little at her being so formal with her dad. As she handed the phone to me, with a slight panicked look, she said it wasn’t him, it was “some lady”. 

And my heart sank. There could only be one reason for a stranger to be calling me from his phone. I could barely remember the conversation, even right afterwards. It was like suddenly the lights were too bright and the sounds were too loud and everything was happening so fast. I was trying to follow what she was saying but it was like the air was suddenly buzzing and I couldn’t focus. Something about a bike crash. He had hit his head. He was in the ambulance already, still unconscious. But she was a fourth grade teacher (Owen had just finished fourth grade) and she assured me she would stay with him until I could get there. The drive from Silverthorne to Frisco of course never felt so long. I had no details on what had happened or what his injuries were, just that I needed to get there as soon as humanly possible. We could see the ambulance in the parking lot from the highway, but by the time we worked our way down there, they had already left for the hospital.

I collected Owen, and both of their bikes, and tried to convey to the nice lady and her family how grateful we were for their help. I wish I had more time to thank them, but we were obviously in a hurry to get to the hospital and check on Brian. Luckily, the only hospital in all of Summit County is directly across the street from the Frisco Bike Park, so we were there in a few minutes. I had actually been well aware of its location for some time – having somehow suspected in the back of my mind that we would end up here eventually. Of course, my assumption was that it would be for Owen, after one of his crazy ski tricks gone awry. But it had felt inevitable, one way or another. 

At first they weren’t going to let me go back to see him (COVID rules) but for some reason changed their mind and said I could go, though the kids had to stay in the waiting room. I was glad to see when I got back that he was starting to wake up. Still very groggy and disoriented. He just kept repeating the same things over and over  – that he must have crashed, and asking where Owen was. And thought that it was still March. He was convinced that Owen must be in another bed in the hospital, and I had to assure him at least a dozen times that he was the only one that crashed. Initial scans showed that he had a broken collarbone, and a brain bleed. They said they were not equipped to deal with the brain bleed there if it continued, and would have to send him to Denver. But they were hopeful that it would stop on its own in a few hours, so we just had to wait and see. It was especially concerning for him to have internal bleeding because he is on blood thinners, so they were being very cautious.

Deciding that he was stable enough to be left, I took the kids home so that they weren’t stuck in the waiting room, then came back. He slowly gained more awareness, but still had no memory of the crash. Just knew that he was attempting a jump, and felt a little unsteady as he was coming down to land. And then woke up in the hospital. 

Fortunately, a second scan later that evening showed that the brain bleed had stopped on its own, so he was discharged and told to follow up with his doctor at home. So, having spent one single night in our condo, we were once again in the position of rather hurriedly packing everything to go home unexpectedly early. Over the next few days, we began to heavily question the wisdom of our planned beach vacation. It had already seemed a little risky and irresponsible to be getting on a plane to fly across the country. And now we had the compounding factor of his concussion to worry about. His doctor was actually in favor of him going – thinking the relaxation and forced time off work would do him good. But we read so many horror stories of people trying to fly while recovering from concussions. And we still weren’t even feeling 100% after being sick for so long. By Wednesday, we had to make the call that it just wasn’t worth the risk, and cancel yet another trip. Sigh – another one bites the dust. 

We had both taken the week off work already, so I was still determined that we were going to make something of it. Some quick research led to a whole new plan overnight (literally, I couldn’t sleep from worrying about it and got up at 1am to figure everything out, lol!) We spent the first part of the week in town, enjoying some of the local attractions that had recently opened up. We went to the city pool, Butterfly Pavilion, Aquarium, and the Denver Zoo.

Then we drove up to Glenwood Hot Springs to spend a few days soaking in the naturally warm waters. We even rented a cabana one day and spoiled ourselves rotten, lounging about and being lazy.

While in town, we also took the gondola up to the Glenwood Caverns Adventure Park. The kids rode a few rides, and we did a cave tour. We had done the same one many years ago, but Owen was too young to remember the first time. We drove to Aspen to hike a short loop at Maroon Bells (and just happened to get there in time for a private, guided hike by a naturalist).

On the way home, we stopped by Georgetown to ride the famed Georgetown Loop Railroad, and then spent the last night back at our condo in Keystone. So, we were able to pack a lot into a few days, but also managed our pace well and respected the fact that we were both still recovering, from multiple issues now. So, there was also a lot of rest time in the hotel room too. 

As soon as we got back, Lily started a summer job, working at Sonic. My school had also decided to start bringing us back in person – starting at first with only the teachers. On our first day back, I remember being more scared and nervous than I had been on my first day when I started the job. At this point I had been teaching remotely for more weeks than I had been in the building. I had no idea how this was going to work, or what to expect. But we all slowly began to adjust to a new normal, and within a few more weeks, we had our first kids coming back into the building. It was so good to see life in there again – to hear their laughs and squabbles, to watch them chase each other down the hall. (While we constantly yelled at them to pull up their masks and stay 6 feet apart, lol)

We started routinely going back to the condo every weekend for the summer. And quickly fell in love with A-Basin as our own summer playground. The boys had always loved skiing there, but perhaps we hadn’t appreciated its appeal in the warmer months enough until now. We could take the Black Mountain Express chair lift part of the way up the mountain if we wanted (or hike that section, which was beautiful as well), and then hike further all the way to the top. We did some variation of hiking the mountain every weekend. The scenery never changed, but we never tired of it.

There was a peace that we seemed to find there, that alluded us anywhere else. And a comfort that came with the familiarity of it all. A true haven in the midst of an otherwise crummy year. It was never crowded, and knowing that a tasty hot lunch was awaiting us at 6th Alley (the restaurant in the base area) after our hike always helped to combat fatigue and sore feet. It was the one place that we still felt safe eating out – we would mostly have the dining room to ourselves, and the staff got to know us as well.

It was a different experience up here this summer – the lodge connected to our building was closed, so no evenings in the hot tub. And Keystone didn’t open it’s downhill mountain biking park, much to Owen’s disappointment. But we were grateful to have the escape every weekend regardless. And came to really enjoy laid-back days just soaking in the view from our balcony. 

As mentioned earlier, Lily had been accepted to Johnson & Wales University in Denver, and near the end of June she took her placement test and got to select her dorm room. It was starting to feel more real- she was really going to be moving out in a couple of months! Or… maybe not. A week after she selected her room, I got an email announcing that they had decided to close the Denver campus, and would not be accepting a freshman class afterall. She was devastated. They encouraged accepted students to transfer their enrollment to either the Charlotte or Providence campus, but it would take a few days of soul-searching, and general re-searching, for her to decide what she wanted to do. She had no interest in any other schools in Colorado. And the application deadline for most other schools had passed anyway.

So, Providence it was! We had thought she would be moving to a dorm room in Denver the next month, now she was moving across the country. At 16 years old. Where we knew exactly no one. During a pandemic. I had never even been to Rhode Island, and of course there would be no option to visit or tour the campus first. As if this whole thing wasn’t already logistically hard enough, I had a slight emergency with my toe a few days before we left and had to have a minor procedure done- leaving me hobbling around in a surgical boot for the whole trip! 

She and I flew to Providence with as much of her stuff as we could fit in the maximum allowed checked baggage, and spent two days there finding pretty much every Target and Walmart within driving distance to gather up everything else I thought she might need. This had all happened so fast, and we didn’t even know much about the dorm or building she was moving into, so planning and shopping involved a lot of guesswork. But she doesn’t drive, and being in the middle of downtown, I knew her options for “normal shopping” might be limited, so I was determined not to forget anything. 

On move-in day, she was assigned a one-hour time slot in which we could haul all of her stuff in, and then I would be kicked out. And we had managed to completely fill the rented mini-van. Oh, and this was the ONE day of the whole trip that it poured rain. So I had to attempt to balance each load on the roller cart with an umbrella over it. Keeping myself dry was not a consideration. I obviously wasn’t able to help her with any set-up or unpacking, as it took every bit of our allowed hour together just to get the van unloaded. So, as introduction to adulthood, she would have to face that alone. 

Flying home alone the next day was surreal. I hadn’t flown without kids since having kids. I didn’t quite know what to do with myself, lol! The first few weeks were a bit of a roller coaster for her as she learned to navigate a whole new life on her own, but she ended up settling in well and making some really good friends. They even got out and explored the city and surrounding areas a bit. She also  ran for, and won, a seat on the SGA. And the school was able to keep everyone on campus until Thanksgiving (which was the original plan) with no major COVID outbreaks. So I’m counting this adventure as a win!

Back home, we began adjusting to life as a family of 3. I had always promised Owen that once Lily moved out, he could have her room, which was much larger than his. So, the transition was immediately underway. But, was far more tedious and time consuming than I could have imagined. So much cleaning out. And furniture to move. And walls to paint.  Maybe I’m getting old. This stuff isn’t as easy as it used to be! But after a couple of months, we finally had two “new” bedrooms settled upstairs. Lily’s old purple room had turned blue for Owen, and we turned his green room pink for her, when she did come home for break. 

Owen’s school had made a rather last minute decision to start completely online, after having initially announced a hybrid, in-person/remote model. He was understandably bummed, and it was even worse that on the newly modified calendar, the first day of school fell on his birthday. He did get to celebrate that afternoon with a few friends, and a custom-made Mount Everest cake. I was worried when he requested it, but after the year he had been through, I knew I had to make it happen, so I found a local bakery that was up to the task.

We felt very fortunate these last few months that he has so many friends in our neighborhood. It was a lonely few months, but made tolerable by the fact that he could head out on his bike or scooter in the afternoon, and more often than not, find someone to hang out with. He will spend hours at a time now, out roaming the neighborhood with friends. We’ve been tempted to look at moving to some of the newer developments in town (and have even considered moving to Keystone full-time), but this is the primary reason we always decide against it. With no in-person school, and all extra-curriculars and sports cancelled, not having neighborhood friends would be unbearable for him. 

Sometime in the middle of summer, we were very glad to see that the NBA actually re-started the suspended season – at Walt Disney World, of all places! Like the marriage of my two favorite things, lol. We were so glad to be able watch games again into the fall – it was something to break up the monotony, and gave us a little bit of “normal” back on so many nights. Although in the end, our Nuggets were taken out by the Lakers in the conference finals. The Lakers would go on to win the championship. They’ve always been my least favorite team, but I found myself rooting for them eventually- after losing Kobe Bryant in the tragedy at the beginning of the year, it felt right that they won it this year, of all years.

As we headed into fall, my work schedule began to pick up again. It had been a little thin over the summer. But with most public schools remaining online, there was suddenly an influx of parents looking for something different for their kids, and willing to pay for the privilege. So our numbers skyrocketed. And our building was not even close to being big enough. Classes were happening in the hallway, the front lobby, the kitchen, and even outside. More space next door was promised to us eventually, but probably not until the second semester. We would have to make do until then. But hey – job security, right?? My boss couldn’t even hire new teachers fast enough.

Throughout the late summer and fall, Colorado had unfortunately been plagued by wildfires. The smoke was so thick in town most days that it was unpleasant to be outside. It seemed like salt in the wound, on a year when all indoor fun had been canceled, to take away our opportunity for solace outdoors as well. 2020 – the year that kicks you when you’re down.  The two largest fires in state history were both burning in October, at the same time, only a few miles apart. We did make it up to Estes Park one weekend while the fires were still a bit further away, to spend an afternoon with Brian’s family. Two weeks later, Estes was evacuated.

(Image above from Denver Post)

An then of course, election season was upon us. And in typical 2020 fashion, that couldn’t pass without more than its fair share of drama either. I am not generally much of a political person in my daily life, and I’m not going to go on a long political rant here, but I’m also not gonna lie. I lost sleep many nights worrying that our country had seen the end of democracy. The fear that we were actually going to be taken over by an overgrown toddler wanting to play dictator was very real. And it was sickening to me how many people in our country seemed to be completely okay with this idea. I understand the desire to be on the winning side, but it would never be more important to me than the very ideals our country was founded upon. Fortunately, good sense seems to be winning out and I am cautiously optimistic that there will be a much needed administration change in January.

Near the end of October, Owen’s school allowed the kids to come back in person, and it was very good for him to get out of the house and get more time with his friends. Unfortunately, it didn’t last, and by mid November, they were all back online again. Remote learning has been very hard on him. Honestly, he’s not exactly the “academic type” like Lily always was, he’d much rather be skiing or playing Fortnite on the Nintendo.  Being stuck at home in a room by himself behind a computer screen makes it nearly impossible for him to focus and be successful.

“School” is definitely the most dreaded word in his vocabulary right now. And the emails from his teacher just keep coming. This assignment is missing, he failed that one. Or just didn’t show up to class this afternoon. Sigh.  I really hope they are able to go back into the building after break. At his (virtual) parent-teacher conference this fall, his teacher seemed surprised to read on his letter that his favorite subjects were “recess, lunch, and PE.” I guess that’s not really what she was expecting from that question, lol! But it’s been his answer for years. And online school takes away all 3 of those things. Poor kid.

We did manage to find some fun in the fall, though. We spent an afternoon at Anderson Farms. In years past Google had always hosted the family picnic day here – so of course our limited time here didn’t compare to that. But it was nice to get out anyway, and we even got lucky with a relatively smoke-free day, which was rare at the time. Owen had also been spending a lot of time at the skate park on his scooter, and Brian and I spent a day together at the Denver Zoo.

I haven’t mentioned it too much in this story recently, but my rheumatoid arthritis had continued to be a major problem throughout much of the year. Simple tasks were maddeningly difficult, and everything always hurt. The new med I started over the summer, which my doctor had thought  was very promising, had still not begun to help. I was warned it could be 3-4 months before full effectiveness, but after more than 3 months, I had no relief at all. And was still completely dependent on steroids. Which of course, came with their own set of side effects, which were often miserable enough that I had to stop taking them for days or weeks at a time. We even tried a new steroid, but it was no better. It was frustrating. And discouraging. And on more than one occasion  I let myself fall into a well of self-pity over the issue. When the meds that always worked before suddenly don’t, and then the new (supposedly “better”) stuff also doesn’t work, you have to start to wonder if this is just it. Maybe my body had changed in so fundamental a way that modern medicine simply wasn’t going to be able to help me. And I was going to be doomed to live with this level of misery forever.

So there were many evenings and whole weekends spent lying on the couch, feeling sorry for myself, and worrying that this was simply my future. I specifically remember Halloween night. I was in far too much pain to go out with Owen at all, and was actually grateful that everyone was setting up tables in their driveway this year for the kids to help themselves to candy, as there was no way I could have been up and down off the couch to answer the door multiple times. But it was a rough evening for me, and I felt like it was a sign of all the fun I was going to be missing out on from now on. I can’t say for certain, of course, but I do blame getting sick. It just seems like too much of a coincidence that I wasn’t having any trouble before then, and haven’t been able to find a solution since. I’ve recently started yet another med, and am actually seeing maybe-possibly-hopefully promising results. But it’s too early to really know just yet.

In late November, the ski resorts cautiously began to open. It had not been a good snow-year so far, and with the pandemic in full swing, it was hardly the celebration we were used to. But, the boys enjoyed getting out on the slopes a few times, anyway. I had already purchased a pass for both Keystone and A-Basin, having had to commit back in the summer before I realized how drawn out my RA battle was going to be. I haven’t been able to ski yet, but I haven’t given up hope. The seasons is still young. Hopefully it doesn’t get shut down by the pandemic before my joints decide to cooperate.

Lily returned home from Providence the weekend before Thanksgiving, having successfully managed her first solo flying adventure. And she even had a long layover in Chicago to navigate on her own! We had initially planned to spend Thanksgiving with Brian’s mom, but in the weeks before, Colorado’s COVID cases had skyrocketed, and out of an abundance of caution, we decided to forgo those plans and we brought her some prepared food instead, and visited for a few minutes outside when dropping it off. We also visited with both sides of the family over Zoom. During the call with Brian’s family, we had a minor disaster with the turkey and they got to listen to our smoke alarm going off, and general chaos of us shouting in the background, lol. Lily was a great help in the kitchen though. It was another rough RA day for me, and I wouldn’t have been able to do much without her.

Every year, our favorite holiday tradition is going to the Blossoms of Light at the Denver Botanic Garden. Fortunately, they were still able to hold the event this year, with a few modifications. I did miss being able to walk around sipping my hot apple cider, but was still so glad that we got to go. In a year when so much has been lost, our standards have become much lower. In previous years, having to make the concessions we do now would have caused great annoyance. Now, we are glad for whatever fun we can get, however we can get it.

Our plans for Christmas are still to visit my family in Florida. I recognize that this will not be a popular choice with many. But at the end of the day, I have to make a gut-call on the right thing to do. And this feels like the right thing to do. We will be as careful as possible, of course. But at some point, life can’t be put on hold forever. Because we simply don’t have forever.

As the year is nearing its end, everyone is collectively wishing 2020 out the door. I can only hope that 2021 is a relief. If this year has taught us anything, it should probably be that things can always get worse. Unfortunately, there is no easy answer for how to “fix” things. States go back and forth on restrictions, shutdown, etc. Some say it’s not enough, some say it’s too much. And I can honestly see both sides. I can promise you that this virus is real, and very contagious, and scary. And taking precautions to mitigate it, even if it means some slight inconvenience, is absolutely worth it. (Yes, looking at YOU, anti-maskers. Stop being a selfish ass and put the damn thing on. I promise its not that hard. I have to wear one all day.)

On the other hand, I can’t help but wonder what other harm we do with such severe shutdowns. There will surely be long-lasting and possibly devastating effects to the well-being of so many that can be traced back to having lost so much of their livelihoods this year. We already know mental health is deteriorating, and physical health may follow with the loss of jobs, insurance, and ability to stay active.

We are in the questionable position of possibly having some immunity, but certainly nothing is guaranteed. Even assuming that we did have the virus in the spring, long-term antibodies are not well understood, and there have been documented cases of re-infection. So we have to operate under the assumption that we could still get sick, and/or spread it again. We are tired of pandemic life. We want things back to normal. But we also know that caution is necessary. The best we can hope for right now is to strike a balance. And hope to goodness that the vaccines work, and that people aren’t too stubborn to take them. We WANT to be done with this thing, folks! Why people insist on trusting a random meme on the internet over the expertise of thousands of scientists who have dedicated their entire career to solving exactly this problem is beyond me.

Things are definitely different than they were a year ago. In fact, our life is practically unrecognizable. Brian and Owen are stuck working and schooling at home (which they both hate, the loneliness is real). Lily is currently home for break, but will presumably be headed back to Rhode Island next month (definitely wouldn’t have seen that coming last December, lol!) And I have found my way back into a career field I thought I had long left behind.

Our daily life is slower now. We don’t eat out. We don’t go to movies or shows. Shopping is only for necessity. Without the mad schedule of practices, lessons, and rehearsals filling the afternoons, I usually change in my pajamas as soon as I get home at 4pm. In some ways, I have been grateful, as I’m still not convinced I would have the endurance to manage what we did before. But I miss it too. I miss how full of “life” life used to be. Now, most days seem the same as the one before. And it all blurs together.

I wonder if we will ever go back to “normal”. How much will have simply been lost or changed by the time we declare this mess over? I know there has been some sentiment that we shouldn’t go back to normal, that this was a wake-up call for change. But I have to say, our “normal” a year ago was pretty damn good. And if we get it back, I will be eternally grateful.

Hopefully in a few years, much of this year will seem like a distant memory. And hopefully, at that point I can be proud of how well we pulled through, and managed to find joy even when it was in short supply.

So my wish for 2021 is simple. More joy. Less bad news. May it be so!

Well, everyone had been talking about it all year, so we knew we couldn’t miss it! A total eclipse, dubbed “The Great American Eclipse”, as it was visible from a large part of the country.

We would have had a partial eclipse here at home, but thinking that wasn’t good enough, we made plans to make the pilgrimage to Wyoming to catch the real deal. In atypical Delaney-family fashion, we were rather late jumping on the boat here, and almost didn’t find a hotel room. I finally found what had to be the last room in the state at some little unknown motel in Guernsey, Wyoming. But it would do.

Continue reading →

Brian and I had made a last minute decision to sign up for a Yoga & Hiking retreat this weekend, offered by our gym (Colorado Athletic Club). The kids were off for a weekend with Grandma, while we were in for a weekend of, well, probably lots of yoga & hiking, lol!

We checked in at the Vintage Hotel in Winter Park, and met Lexi, one of our CAC hosts for the weekend. Unfortunately, the hotel didn’t have our room ready, so we took the Cabriolet gondola into the village to explore a bit.

Continue reading →

Photo Album

For our summer camping trip, we decided to venture to a new part of the state – Ouray! We had heard good things. And, not gonna lie, it was one of the few places where I could still get a decent campsite when I finally got around to planning this. We had recently gotten a new cargo rack installed on the Jeep, and were anxious to try it out as well.

Unfortunately, we hadn’t figured out a good plan for securing stuff, and our idea to use tarps and ropes ended up looking a bit ghetto, lol!

Continue reading →