In the truths that we learned
Or the times that we cried
In the bridges we burned
Or the way that we died?
How much can change…in a year.
A year ago this week Amras and I were in Rio, climbing Sugar Loaf Mountain, and taking in the insanity of colour that is Carnival. A few weeks before that we were watching tango in Buenos Aires, during one of the best weekends in my recent memory (really, a girl could get spoiled with Valentine’s Days like that), a few weeks after we were in the Amazon, cuddling baby sloths and staring in awe and giant water lilies.
And everything seemed so safe and secure and what was happening in the rest of the world was still so very far away; a ghost at our heels, not really touching us. Or perhaps we just weren’t acknowledging its shadow looming ever closer. No one knew what was going to happen next.
Then…word started trickling in that things were changing out there. Things were getting weird. Things were getting scary.
Then one day in March we were in Barbados, trying to snatch one last moment of sanity before everything inevitably exploded when…everything did.
And oh how our world turned upside down.
Canada closed it’s borders. The cruise lines shut down and the whole world turned it’s back on us. Leaving us lost and drifting for…well for a very long time.
And then they finally got us home, and we could breathe easy. We were at least safe, secure and not floating anymore…
And then…well…
We were supposed to be back by Halloween, then Christmas, then…spring…then…well now we don’t know. There is so much we don’t know.
And right now, I’m just sitting with that a little. Even though for the most part we’re doing pretty well. Much much better than we could be all things considered but still..
We didn’t ever expect it to be…525,600 minutes.