When I went to bed on Christmas Eve, the world outside my door was glistening wet and grey. When I woke up on Christmas morning, everywhere I looked was laden with luminous white snow draped over bushes and trees, houses and sidewalks; it was such a picture perfect day. The next morning, Boxing Day, we were a small group of seven that gathered at the cemetery gates. Hardy winter souls ready to enjoy the fresh cool air, the sound of the snow crunching under our feet, the quiet calm of the cemetery on a winter’s morning and most importantly for me, each other’s company.
I took deep breaths of air as I walked, thinking of the pandemic and how we’re still not through the worst of it. A while ago I heard an Indigenous Elder speak of Covid19 as a message from our planet, our beautiful and precious home. I hope we are learning to hear that message and to reconsider what we hold as valuable in our society. The most painful lessons often turn out to be the most instructive. As Winston Churchill once said: “Now this is not the end. It is not even the beginning of the end. But it is, perhaps, the end of the beginning.”
So, warrior walkers, let’s kick 2020 to the curb and walk with each other, one footstep at a time, into that brave new year.