The Way Things Used to Be

As we drove home last Friday evening, we listened to "Vacation Town" by The Front Bottoms. This song, in particular, is one that I recall listening to on my morning commute downtown two summers ago. Every time I hear it, I think of that incredible summer. It was arguably the best summer of my adult life thus far. That season marked a time of growth in many areas of my life, personally, professionally, socially, and mentally.

Over and over again, I sang the chorus loudly. If you haven't heard the song before, stop and listen to it now before reading ahead. You can listen to "Vacation Town" by The Front Bottoms here.

As I sang the chorus, memories of that summer flashed through my mind. I looked forward to my morning commute because I couldn't wait to arrive at the office every day. Spontaneous night outs with my friends became a frequent favorite pastime of mine. I quickly adjusted to my new apartment and felt at home and cozy in my environment. As a girl who was only familiar with living in the suburbs, I never pictured myself living in the city, but eagerly looked forward to exploring my new home. I was the happiest I had been in quite some time.

And as the memories flashed through one-by-one, I asked myself, "Do I miss the way things used to be? Is that something I'm willing to admit?"

From the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, I have tried to make the best of this unforeseeable, unpredictable situation. I always choose to see the positive, but this time in doing so, I have unintentionally turned my eye to the fact that I miss the way things used to be in my "normal" life.

The first couple of months of quarantine were an adjustment period. Attempting to understand and adapt to reality consumed my thoughts and actions daily. As time has passed, and life has changed (even if the changes are temporary), I can't help but acknowledge that I miss parts of life that have been put on hold or feel so different compared to how they felt before.

As summer has crept its way into Colorado, my day-to-day looks far different than it did in those sweet summer memories. I don't have a morning commute anymore. Spontaneous nights out with my friends no longer exist. It's not easy to meet up at a brewery, or a coffee shop and catch up like it was before. My apartment isn't as cozy as it used to be since I spend nearly all of my time inside. It's tough to explore the city that I've come to love now that it's half-closed and unable to support social gatherings and get-togethers.

And while my heart is still overflowing with gratitude for the things I do have--good health, my job, a roof over my head--I'm finally willing to admit that I am grieving the many privileges and benefits I had before. I realize now that I can still choose to make the most out of this situation and simultaneously feel sad about how much has changed. Gratitude and sadness can coexist. And perhaps if I welcome the sadness for what it is, I'll be able to embrace this season more fully, and truly make the best of it.

In times of hardship, it's hard not to reminisce about a time when life was brighter and better. As I thought about that unforgettable season of my life, I felt a deep appreciation for those small moments that we often take for granted. So many great moments packed full of unforgettable memories. As my train of thought re-entered the present day, I thought, "It's okay to miss the way things used to be, and it's okay to feel sad in this season of change."

What's been particularly challenging about this situation is that we often invalidate one another's feelings intentionally, or even unintentionally. We say things like, "Even though you're stuck at home all the time, you should just be thankful that you have a job that allows you to work from home," or "You shouldn't be sad about missing going out with your friends right now because people have much bigger issues to deal with." Comparing our own experiences against what others are facing can cause us to feel guilty for feeling sad about a trivial issue. For these reasons, I've found it nearly impossible to admit that the pandemic has brought on feelings of sadness from time-to-time.

Going forward, I'm choosing to lean into sadness when it comes. I refuse to let my feelings be invalidated and commit to openly discussing them. I will not dismiss others' feelings. I acknowledge that my heart can be overflowing with gratitude, but still find space to miss the way things used to be. And every time I listen to "Vacation Town" by The Front Bottoms, I'll welcome memories of that unforgettable season while simultaneously looking forward to many more great seasons to come. And until then, I'll be making the best out of this one.