My year’s memories will likely begin at the end of January, with a head-first tumble down the stairs at the college where I work. I landed at the bottom with a mild concussion and a badly broken wrist. A week or so later, I had surgery to put it back together, taught a couple classes online, warming up for what was to come after an extended Spring Break, when my college went to online classes for the rest of the semester, my son began doing school “virtually” from home along with his sister, who has been doing high school online since her freshman year. Sam, who’s taught online since 2009 kept on doing what he’s always done, albeit from home and with many, many new students this fall.

Summer brought my first experience of teaching a planned online course, my first time teaching literature. Fall would’ve been the first “normal” semester (as in, not a first-time, not interrupted by injury or pandemic). Of course, though, nothing’s been normal this year, and for me, that’s kind of normal. Since 2015, I’ve willingly taken on a series of new experiences –first going back to school part-time, then full-time, then graduate school afterward, add in a new part-time job at the local Casey’s for a month or two and a teaching internship. After that, teaching my own classes. It’s been all-new, all the time for the last five years, even without the every-two-or-three yearly cross-country and cross-town moves that have defined the first decade or two of our marriage.

So, I kind of have to laugh when I think of what a “normal” year is. I’m not sure I remember. What is normal, anyway? I suppose you could mean “according to one’s plans,” maybe “as expected.” Maybe “following a routine.” I guess I could use a little of that –normal. We’ll see what the next year brings. I’m looking forward to not having to have a backup plan for students in quarantine, always being prepared to “pivot” to online at a moment’s notice. Looking forward to getting a vaccine and being able to retire the masks (someday). Looking forward to in-person church, a calming of tensions over the whole thing.

Today, I’m taking a bit of a break. The photo is from my view of the sunrise this morning. It’s finally “normal” winter weather today, eleven degrees and clear at dawn. Even the weather’s been odd this winter, though that’s not been anything to complain about. My Christmas present this year was a night away to write and figure out what project is next, writing-wise.

Writing, for me, is normal, and I’ve done precious little of it this year. And solitude, though too common for many this year, has been hard to find in may case, with an entire family working and schooling at home most of the year. It’s been good, yes, but this year’s been as hard on us introverts as it has for you extroverted folks, just in a different way. I got used to coming home to an empty, quiet house after teaching, after church, and now –not so much. So, here’s to a new year, “normal” or not. At least it’s pretty certain it won’t be boring, and absolutely certain that One wiser than I will be guiding all along the way.