Here's To Yesterday And Cheers To Tomorrow

Han
Jan 3, 2022
5 min read

It's been a whole year since I've last written on here which means it's been almost two years since China, and over a year since my Nashville move. Goodness, I'd say time has flown--because in a way it has--but to be honest, it feels like I've been walking across quicksand attempting to move forward through it's slow and relentless downward pull.

This year has been tremendously hard. I know I've said that for a few years in a row now, but 2021 had an extra sting to it. Though I don't think I'm the only one who would say that. A year that was supposed to be full of hope with a beam of light at the end of the tunnel turned into a cold spiral staircase with seemingly unending turns into darkness. At the end of this blog you'll see a gallery of photos of all my best days. It's all smiles and fun and celebration and laughter. It felt weird putting it together when there was so much heartache, loss, and tears. I don't want to leave those moments in the past. I want them to be captured like photos to hold onto the sorrow because it's those moments that make the good times shine brighter. It's in the weight of my grief that I see the capacity of my love. I lost both of my grandmothers within two months of each other–the last of my grandparents. The size of hope I held for returning to China shrunk more than three sizes, and December brought yet another bombshell with an ER visit ending in a Multiple Sclerosis diagnosis. The signs have been there for awhile, and the diagnosis has been a shadowy figure hanging over me for the past 4 years. To receive its confirmation was a blow nonetheless. (More on this later, or maybe not...but it's out there and I'll just say, "it's not okay, but I will be"). And yet, I can't help but think of all the moments this year when I was deeply happy. I couldn't stay down long because I had people picking me back up by the tenfold, making it nearly impossible for the darkness to succumb me. I think about how much I've been able to travel to see family and friends. I think about spending nearly every weekend on the river this summer and weekly pizza nights over laughter with loved ones. I think about the 12 month job that was the exact soft place to land after a year of turmoil. I think about my sweet connection to China and how I still get to be a part of the work there. I made the decision to go back to school and work towards a degree which was a big scary choice that I haven't regretted for a minute (yet). It's been good and weird and annoying and something I'm really proud of myself for. I think about starting therapy at the exact right moment to prep me for things I had not yet seen coming. Anxiety had a vengeance this year. So did uncertainty, sorrow, confusion, anger, and fear. 2021 felt like a year of losing battles. COVID's continuous rage and devastation leaving many of us feeling "pandemic fatigue"...wondering when will this new normal feel "normal"? So many children I know who are waiting in China with families at the ready but papers not being stamped and invisible borders of steel separating them until who knows when. Grief showing its ugly face more times than I'd wish to welcome it, and never knowing which direction to go. Lines being blurred between right and wrong and desperately wanting to make the right and good and true choice. It hasn't been the year I expected, but when has it ever?

“Year’s end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instill in us.” —Hal Borland

Even through all of that awful achy tough stuff, I'm still here, and I'm incredibly grateful for my people, my hope, and for laughing more days than not. There are a lot of things I wish were different. A lot. I'm learning that it's okay to wish for those things. It's okay to sit in sadness and it's okay to be angry. I'm also learning how to be fully present and live each day as it comes with a fresh perspective. I'm not making any new year's resolutions this year, just like I didn't make any last year. My goal is to live in the moment, spend each day like it's incredibly special to live it, and do everything in kindness and love for others–including myself. So here I am, a freshman in college a decade after my "gap year". Newly diagnosed with MS and awaiting the start of treatment. Going to therapy. Still working through grief and trauma and anxiety. Starting to allow Nashville to feel a little comfy. About to embark on a new journey at a job working with refugees that I'm nervous and excited and ready for. I miss my grandmas. I miss China and all it held. I miss my family when we're apart which is more than not. I'm tired and lonely and confused and sad and angry and scared and brave and hopeful and content and excited and happy and thankful and all of it is muddled into this 2022 version of myself that probably sounds as messy as it feels.

But I think it feels like living and I'm grateful for that.

So I'll show the snapshots of happy days and smiling faces because those are the moments I want to spread and share with the world. They're the proof of joy and reminders of my favorite days. The people and memories I fight for. And I'll keep the sacred ornaments, tear stained notes, and ripped hospital tags quietly for myself. The little reminders of sorrow, love, courage, and aliveness.

She was never quite ready, but she was brave

So here's to 2022.

For me, I hope for cozy evenings wrapped in blankets with a warm cup and a good chat. I hope for eye-watering-gut-wrenching-wheezy laughter with great company. I hope to open myself up to learn from others and the world around me. I wish for creamy ice cream and buttery popcorn and kindness towards my body and mind. I hope for crisp afternoon walks in nature and sleepy mornings with no pressure. Above all, I hope for all of us to feel seen and held in whatever state our souls may be in–for we are insurmountably worthy of love. I might write again soon, or not until this time next year. Until then, happy new year and may your days be a little merrier and a tad brighter.