The last day of 2021 dawned in a thick blanket of fog. The low damp clouds whispered through the trees, hovered in the hollows and blotted out the lake. It was a day of quiet wanderings and gray wonderings for me when at my husband's suggestion, I grabbed my camera and went out into the world. I tossed locations in the air but settled for the simple, the River Road along the Meramec. Life always comes back to rivers for me, and today was another life moment, the end of a year, a leg of the journey, a chapter in the book, and it was time to wrap up some things, close some doors and ponder about endings and beginnings again. People mark the big things in life in years -- the year of the drought, the year of the big snow, the year we got married, the year my father died, the year of COVID and now the second year of COVID. I've lost a lot of people I cared about in the last two years, more than a dozen, five in 2020 from COVID, and the rest as a matter of course, as I have gotten older and death gains proximity. Despite the loss, 2021 was a better year than the one prior. We were vaccinated and learned to adjust our lifestyle. We played music outdoors, saw family outdoors, revolved in six foot circles around each other, ate in restaurants again, celebrated the holidays. It was nice. There was love and appreciation and joy for family and friends and life! Now, in winter and with another variant in the air, however, doors are closing again, probably until spring. Thus ends 2021. And 2022 is a mystery. And sometimes it looks a little scary... but there is also beauty in the mystery and hope in the unknown -- hope that this year is the last of the pandemic, hope that the grim reaper will take a break and friends and family and I will hang in there at least a while longer, hope that we will play music again when cold winds warm in the spring and faith, that no matter our circumstances, God will see us through and take us where we need to be. Faith, the springboard of hope, even in the fog, gives us growth and beauty in experience, courage to face the future, seeds for a new season and thanksgiving for all that was and all that will be -- so we can get on with the river of life. Happy New Year.
2 Comments
Kim Hart
1/1/2022 02:18:38 pm
So Beautiful Tracey. Love your work absolutely beyond measure. Blessed to call you my Friend. Hugs from Oklahoma 🥰
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Tracey Rapisardo
1/1/2022 02:53:24 pm
Thank you, Kim (again). Peace to you, my friend, comfort and hope for the future. Miss you, and of course, Greg. God bless.
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AuthorTracey Bruce is a freelance writer and photographer who formerly covered news and events in the Highway 30 Corridor. Archives
December 2021
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