Hope. Every New Years eve brings hope that this next year will be better than the last. Considering how atrocious 2020 was, it should be a low-bar for 2021. On the COVID front, my son-in-law plans to go to work today after a stint with COVID where he still has a cough. Personally, I think that's stupid, but I don't get to set the rules this year, either. My daughter has come down with the virus and is hurting. I hope that her run with it is quick and not long-lasting. I've managed to come down with something affecting my intestines. I see the doc on a televisit this coming Tuesday.
“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.
- Emily Dickenson
