This feels like writing on the facebook wall of Bries or my Mom. Like posting every year on their birthday. Their death day.
After a year of Covid, a year of staying in, a year of discovering what I really want out of life, a year of loss, a year of new possibilities, a year of new traditions, a year of new memories, it's no wonder that just a few days ago I had a flood of old memories of the last 12 years hit me like a ton of bricks.
I felt like a new world opened up to me at the end of a year where the whole world shut down.
I hope this time has been transformative for me. I'd love to start writing here again. I tried using a new, fancy website but the idea of going through my archives just felt exhausting and not healthy emotionally.
Let's see what happens.
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