Recycled Resolutions

A number of years ago, I resolved to write a blogpost at least once a month. Every year I recycle that resolution and add another. Last year's additional resolution was to read a book a week. Write a blog post once a month; read a book a week. I did quite well until mid-March, already having read enough books to exceed my projections.

Then the world stopped. 

Had he still been alive, my father's 100th birthday would have been March 15th, 2020.  To celebrate his life, my extended family was planning to attend mass at his beloved childhood/young adult parish of Our Lady of Pompeii in Greenwich Village. Afterwards, we planned to eat at Monte's on MacDougal Street. Monte's was a favorite restaurant of my father's, and my brother, sister and I also had fond memories of dining there. 

Unfortunately, the Friday before my father's birthday, schools in my town closed because of a dangerous virus that was beginning to sweep the nation. We were encouraged to stay put and hopefully reduce the spread of the virus. I was broken-hearted that I'd not be able to celebrate with my family, but as it turns out, due to the virus, Monte's closed it's doors and masses were cancelled for the weekend. 

We all know the trajectory of our lives after that. 

When I write, as when I read, I'm accustomed to crawling into a different world. As Emily Dickinson says, There's no Frigate like a Book/To take us Lands away/Nor any coursers like a Page/of Prancing Poetry. One would think that a Covid-imposed isolation might quadruple my writing and reading potential, but it hasn't happened that way. I'm easily distracted. When writing, I perch on my chair as if my desk were positioned at edge of cliff. Settled with a book, I read and reread the same paragraph without breaking through the word-wall to enter another world. 

2020 was a difficult year and its problems continue to spread poisonous tentacles into 2021. This year I took pressure off myself and resolve only to hold onto hope. Hope in science and vaccines. Hope in kindness and in truth. 

May this year's resolution survive and be recycled for years to come.