YAYAYAYAY. This Insider comes out on my favorite day of the year - February 28th. The end of winter as I define it. I love March, and I’m frequently disappointed (snow … cold) but March is the Pollyanna optimist’s hope. Potentially blades of grass will start to grow, the holidays (St. Paddy’s day) are solid, and it is the start of everything. I usually start wearing shorts and sandals in March (regardless of the snow and cold). I love March so much.*
Two years ago I was in Breckenridge, Colorado on February 29th skiing. Then in March of 2020, I drove to Texas right when the pandemic began and although we knew something weird was happening, we went anyway. I was telling Amy that when I came back - the world had changed, and it was hard for me to assimilate back into the new pandemic society. It’s still weird, and it’s two years later.
Recently I went and looked back at the different videos, pics, and communications we did since the beginning of the pandemic. I think we did more over the past couple of years than in the years previous. I remember how early on there were the whole “heroes work here” campaigns here and at different hospitals. New Yorkers would hang out of their windows in their downtown apartments and cheer at 7pm for the front line workers. It’s the “thanks” … it’s the talk and display of gratitude. The culture transformed.
Do we have division and anger and disagreement about different things? Sure, we always did and always will, but hopefully we are also (in our exhaustion) a little bit more willing to forgive. As we wind down (hopefully) and move to the new normal, let’s keep the emphasis on forgiving each other and having gratitude. Maybe this is our new blade of grass of the upcoming season.
*I’m setting myself up for massive disappointment … As much as I want warm tropical breezes on March 3rd it just isn’t in the cards - it’s still Iowa. As much as I want to be a patient, calm person -- that’s just not possible. When the inevitable blizzard hits the first part of the month - feel free to drive by my house to see me screaming wildly in anger into the yard and throwing things. It’s not ever pretty.
