Expecting the Unexpected
As I write, I am flipping through my calendar from last year and the only thing I can think is wow, an awful lot happened last year. An awful lot. The one theme that seems to hold it all together is “That wasn’t what I expected.”
I confess, I’m a little gobsmacked even writing that.I hadn’t realized how truly unexpected 2021 was. I had not expected to be spending so much time dealing with doctor’s offices, mostly for family members that I am taking care of. I didn’t expect middle son to buy a house and move for the second time in the course of a year. I didn’t expect to learn I was going to become a grandmother again. Our vacation happened, but there was a lot that was unexpected there as well—among other things, who would have expected that our dog travels better in the car than many humans!
There were unexpected losses to be sure, and some unexpected joys: in my niece’s long delayed wedding and my youngest son being hired for a position he really wanted. My mother-in-law was able to join us for Thanksgiving for the first time in several years. I got to try new things, a ropes course, a wild cave tour that included climbing straight up a rock wall, (trying to learn) motorcycle riding. Some things went better than others, to be sure, but the unanticipated experiences were great.
Writing-wise, I got to participate in a Spanish translation anthology for Christmas and speak on a panel with Abigail Reynolds and Monica Fairview, on Fantasy and Austenesque works which was a lovely experience. I also learned a lot about writing and what I’d like to write in the future.
Setting Expectations
After all the tumult of last year, I really don’t know what I expect this year. But then again, perhaps I do.
I expect to make mistakes and lots of them. I expect to make new mistakes and a few of the same old ones. I expect I will laugh at some of those mistakes. I expect I will cry over some of them.
I expect to stop doing some old things and be overjoyed that I did. I expect I will regret some of the things I stop.
I expect to go out on a limb and try some new things. I expect to be terrified of those new things and try to back out of doing them. I expect to do them anyway. I expect some of those new things to totally fail, but maybe, hopefully some of them won’t and I’ll be thrilled at the success.
Basically, I am expecting the unexpected.
Gratitudes for 2021
We have new grandchildren on the way!
My granddaughter celebrated her first birthday.
My middle son found a house and it looks like he won’t be moving again anytime soon.
My youngest son was able to find a job in his chosen field after the hiring went to zero during 2020.
We all work remotely, so have been able to continue in our family support bubble.
I got to take some excellent writing classes and learn a lot about my chosen craft and about myself.
Though publishing plans have been–well utterly unplanned–I still managed to release three books.
Like many, if not most of us, I am looking forward to the promise of 2022, but no matter how it goes, I want it to be a year of gratitude.
I am grateful to still be alive, since I seem to qualify for the bad vectors: 77 years old, COPD, and heart problems as pre-existing conditions. I am grateful that most of my family is still alive and healthy, although we lost my 78-year-old, unvaccinated cousin to Covid in October. I am grateful for the new Grand-niece and the upcoming March Wedding of my Nephew, to reassure me that life will go on in happiness. And I am grateful for all the lovely acquaintances in the Jane Austen world of fan fiction who have thoroughly enlivened my life.
I always love to hear what people are grateful for!