"Four score and seven years ago..."

...that's about what it feels like since we went on our never ending spring break to slow the spread. I was a senior in high school when we heard the we were having an extended spring break, and let me tell you, I was excited. My senioritis was at an all time high and another week off sounded glorious. However, what I did not understand was that in the following few months a lot would be taken away. Lessons were learned, tears were shed, and life went on. Well, kind of.

Today marks the anniversary of my last ever track meet. The Bridgeport track meet and I had a terrible track record. Not by speed, or talent, but by unfortunate events. My seventh grade year I had apophysitis on my iliac crest. I won't say I broke my hip because my dad reads these and will make fun of me, but I basically broke my hip. My sophomore year I tore my quad enough to need a minor repair. So as my senior year approached, I was NOT looking forward to the meet. It just had bad luck written all over it. But when the meet went smoothly and nothing happened, I thought the curse was broken. We won the meet and I was even going on a date (with a boy I had a crush on for over a year) the next day. Flash forward and that was my last time to compete in a track meet. If you know me, or knew the high school me, you knew I thrived anywhere my spikes could come. Not having track anymore broke my heart. I knew it would come, but not like that.

Next was the news that we would not get go back to school. I would not get to sit in a classroom with Grace Darrow again, or hear Kendall Zimmer's contagious laugh. I would not walk the halls of GHS as a student again. Instead I would stay at home and occasionally have a Zoom call to catch up with everyone.

Then graduation came. We were one of the lucky few to host an in-person graduation. Our class was finally together again, even if it were only for a short hour. Let me tell you, short is what it was. A thunderstorm was rolling up and lightening approaching made the process speed up. We were thrown our diplomas and left. No school song. No hat throwing. No alma mater. We were just done.

My freshmen year of college rolls around and nothing is happening. It's go to class, go to library, go eat, go back to dorm. All day everyday. On repeat. It was (is) sad. Draining. Not what I was promised college would be.

I am not sitting here typing all of this to remind us of the pain and shock we all went through. I am not here to ask for pity as a Class of 2020 grad. I am sitting here writing this to tell you that we did it. We made it.

No, we are not out of the pandemic. We are not back to "normal". But we did it. We survived our first year of this thing. We know how to handle it, we are slowing the curve, we are slowly unmasking- we did it. Not only did we tackled our first COVID year, we also made it past hard things.

Some lost jobs. Some lost family members. Some lost friends over controversy. Some lost opportunities. It was hard. But we did it! We can do hard things (shout out to Kristee again)!

When I look back at the year of loss, I see a year of gain. More time with family, a chance to run our "final lap", and more time preparing for college. I gained a better understanding of who I am and who my identity is in. This year was tough. I still am processing it all, honestly. But, I am looking forward to all the things I have yet to gain from this thing.

Heres to doing hard things knowing we can make it out on the other side. Heres to hidden blessings. Heres to a year of rest. I love you people.

Keep on keeping on,

Claire