2021 in Review
Looking back on 2021 and feeling so thankful. Thankful for another fulfilling year spent doing work I love. Thankful for another year participating in the paranoia of the moment (hi, covid) and being reminded of how easily (and how often) large life decisions lie hidden in small moments.
In January I noticed a coworker of mine preparing to list a really cool property for sale. Shawn and I previewed it and submitted an offer the next day. By mid-March we’d moved-in. The following weeks past quickly as I played musical chairs, curated knick-knacks and tried to create an sense of home and hygge in our new space. Nothing came together instantly and technically we’re on our 4th dinning room table already. But, trust me when I tell you, this table fits the room the best.
In May I turned 35 and we welcomed our third wedding anniversary. Life felt familiar. After a year of quarantine and cancelled plans, it was great to have dates to look forward to, no matter how small the celebration.
Come June Sully had started radiation treatments for his second battle with cancer. That was quickly over-shadowed when I totaled our car in a drive-by-shooting — an incident that has largely come to define 2021 for me. (I survived, obviously) A few days after the shooting I was back on the block, attending a client’s Final Walk-thru. I had allocated plenty of time to avoid driving through the deadly intersection (RIP Dearl). Final walk-through went as expected, but on my way out of the building I surprised myself. “What’s new?” The Front Desk attendant had asked me. And I struggled to find the words to answer. Nothing felt familiar anymore. I worried that telling her about the shooting might end up worrying her unnecessarily. So, I dodged the question and offered up a polite goodbye as I hurried out. Without even understanding why or how, I’d allowed trauma and shame to sweet-talk me into secrecy. I took a month off of work after that...
Off of work that month Sully and I spent 1,080 miles together, in a borrowed car, traveling to and from radiation appointments outside the city. And, no, I was not comfortable being behind the wheel all that time. But there are things you just have to do for the ones you love — be those loved ones shepherds, or spouses. It seemed like the idea of getting comfortable with what had happened was a luxury. Life often demand we just get up and go. And society spins a weird web of survival guilt. There were a lot of tears on those drives while processing everything, scanning the radio relentlessly, and discovering within myself a whole new sense of gumption. (Sully survived, obviously)
In the fall my commercial real estate mentor and I officially teamed up. I spent the second half of the year following my passion for preservation and am so, so thankful to have found my way to two amazing communities within the Society of Architectural Historians, and Landmarks Illinois’ Skyline Council. Never under estimate the power of community, especially after spending so much time isolated and working alone from home. Enjoying life, and simply enjoying others, felt like a new priority.
It was a good year, but it was not an easy year. Does that resonate with anyone else?
The fur has finally started growing again on Sully’s arm. And occasionally I’ll catch myself driving by the intersection of the accident without avoiding it. The moral of my story is this: Your life is only a good as your mindset. (Be thankful you survived, obviously)