2020 Highlights
Hoping for a great sea-change
Since 2014 I’ve published a Year In Review post on New Year’s Day. They’ve always been rose-tinted reflections; an instagram-filtered look at the year.
But as I sit down to summarize 2020 I have a sense of cognitive dissonance. Trying to reflect on the positive moments during this hardest of years risks trivializing the pain and suffering so many have experienced. Explaining my own challenges and struggles isn’t aligned with the purpose of these posts, and risks invoking the trap of comparative suffering.
I’ll simply state that this was a really hard year. But at the same time we are lucky and privileged, not least because both Tessa and I were able to work remotely, with flexible schedules, and due to Lyra’s school technically being a child-care, she was only at home until September.
We flew back from England on New Year’s Eve after visiting my family. Tessa was pregnant, and nearly at the no-fly limit, so we nearly didn’t go. I’m very thankful for our decision, given the way 2020 unfolded.
In early February, Lyra and I had a father-daughter weekend trip up to the Sierra mountains. We stayed in Arnold off of Highway 4 and she had her first ski lesson at Bear Valley.
Then she turned five. And while COVID was starting to spread across the globe, we were still able to have an in-person birthday party. Her cousins even flew down from Seattle.
In March, one week before lockdown and one day before her scheduled induction date, Skye entered the world bruised and battered.
At 10:25pm, with contractions coming fast and furious, I called for our babysitter. She arrived at 11:01pm, 2 minutes after Tessa’s water broke. I drove like a maniac to UCSF, making it in 7 minutes. I parked on the curb and yelled at an off-duty doctor for help. He grabbed a wheelchair and we raced through the hospital, Tessa’s screams clearing the way.
We made it into a delivery room; a dozen nurses, midwives, and medical students crowded around. Then in only four pushes Skye was out. Born at 11:21pm, purple faced from such a quick journey.
Then lockdown hit. Scheduled trips by grandparents and aunties were canceled. Lyra’s school shutdown. And the Range team abandoned our office.
Tessa was diagnosed with walking pneumonia, a diagnosis that was missed by doctors who were too focused on her gestational blood pressure. Lyra got a chest and ear infection which required antibiotics. Not the best timing for respiratory illnesses.
We settled into a routine of virtual school, video chats with family, and work-from-home-with-kids.
Months ticked by. I shaved my head. Threw out my back. We tried to make the most of SoMa and Mission Bay. There were lots of crafts and coloring projects.
It wasn’t until May that we started venturing further afield, hunting for quiet locations in the Presidio, East Bay, and Marin.
In June, I took a day off work and did a refresher course for Pediatric First Aid. Wearing a P95 mask for 8 hours gave me a small sense of the discomfort frontline workers were enduring.
The year ticked along.
With a newborn and five year old, and COVID raging, we watched the antiracism protests from a distance (a privilege, I know). We did our best to explain to Lyra what was happening; why people were upset about the systemic issues that led to the deaths of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and countless others.
Then the fires came.
Throughout 2020 I had less energy for books than usual. I mostly read for escapism in the form of Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn Trilogy, Ishmael by Daniel Quinn, Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad, The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells, La Belle Sauvage by Philip Pullmen, and The Cure at Troy by Seamus Heaney.
On the non-fiction side Tribes by Seth Godin, The Sales Acceleration Formula by Mark Roberge, and Start With Why by Simon Sinek, provided some inspiration.
As the year progressed, we started to feel constrained in our one bedroom loft. All the things we love about SF were slipping away. Playgrounds, the Children’s Museum, and The Exploratorium, were all closed. And SoMa was increasingly feeling lawless and unsafe.
Large homeless shelters, needles littering the street, thieves in our building, and near weekly carjackings within a few block radius. One time I found myself googling the effects of second hand crack smoke as I tried to navigate the stroller to the Bay Trail for a walking nap with Skye.
We didn’t want to give up on San Francisco, so with mortgage rates at record lows and a good amount of equity built up in our apartment, we bit the bullet and did something we’d been dreaming of for a decade. We bought a cabin in the woods.
I found a place in Arnold, near where I’d taken Lyra skiing in the spring. The area is less popular than Tahoe and a 2.5 hour drive on a Friday night. It’s been such a huge relief. We come up for the weekends and school closures. We explore the forests and rarely get close to any other human beings. It’s allowed Lyra to be a care free kid and I’ve found hobbies in maintaining the house and land.
It’s a luxury we don’t take for granted.
What a year. As we say good riddance to 2020, let’s also say unequivocally that Black Lives Matter, women’s rights are human rights, trans rights are human rights, love is love.
History says, don’t hope
On this side of the grave.
But then, once in a lifetime
The longed-for tidal wave
Of justice can rise up,
And hope and history rhyme.
