Sometime in 2022, Covid became post covid. We went from normal to the new normal to what now feels like the new unnormal to me. Everything is different, in a meh way.
It began with me becoming monumentally old and celebrating that by taking care of a fevered toddler on new year’s eve. I had suspected it would set the tone for the year, and I was sadly right.
Like a fever, we grew weary in the evenings and recovered in the afternoons. The whole year felt like a wave. Early 2022 was filled with concern and stress. The middle had a modicum of hope. And now, as the year closed, I feel a slight recovery. But, claiming that for the collective “we” would be a stretch.
On a positive note, we loved how our toddler became incredibly curious about everything, started stringing sentences out of nowhere, and asked me outstanding why questions. He systematically reduced his frequency of falling sick as he increased his appetite for automobiles, adventure, and ad Astra.
On a personal note, my favorite memory was driving 8 hrs to catch a seaplane to a rarely visited national park on a wild island. For two days, this fox felt like a wolf.
We ended the year in India with friends and family. Now somewhat repetitive, that remains my favorite way to end a year and kickstart a new one. Between the trivial arguments with my parents on where to order takeout from and the worn-out jokes with my childhood friends, lies a home etched in loal.
My resolutions for 2023 are atomic and my resolutions for life remain grand. My resolutions as a parent and a husband are stoic. If that sounds vague, I must be meeting where you are.
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