Going on month #9 of this pandemic, and nothing continues to be easy. Avoiding handshakes and hugs, the need to constantly wear a mask and over-use hand sanitizer, favorite businesses shutting down… it’s a mess of frustration, sadness, fear and anxiety. But the change that has gotten me the most… not seeing family.
The decision to fly home for the holidays this year wasn’t easy. (There were many tears, prayers and moments of stress surrounding both options: to stay or go.) We had this trip planned since the beginning of the year… and the toll of not having seen family / spending most days by myself in studio, was starting to wear.
Now don’t get me wrong, I love my job and love being in Texas, but there are times when I just want to be surrounded by family… and unfortunately, there are just too many thousands of miles between California, Colorado and Tennessee to fill that want.
This week, I did my best to limit my exposure… spending most of my days going straight to-and-from work to home. Out of caution, I got a COVID-test on Wednesday and another Friday, both coming back negative. (I didn’t have any symptoms or known exposures, it was purely out of piece of mind). I was hyper about wearing my mask and staying 6-feet from others when possible - the “normal” bit.
Ultimately, it came down to my mental and emotional health. It’s been a year since I’ve been back to California. And what’s more - it’s been a year since I’ve seen some of my family. Physically, I feel great. But mentally, I needed to see my people.
So now, as I sit here on the plane, doubled-up with a disposable mask & a cloth mask, a face-shield and an extra layer of clothing, I’m headed home.
I’ve always been a worrier… so even with the excitement and feelings of relief I have seeing family, I’m still a bit anxious.
But I’ve done what I needed to to control what I can… the rest, I have faith in God for.