Planning a Holiday Meet Up? Read This!

Do you plan a holiday meet up this week? Consider my story.

MTM and I REALLY wanted to travel for a Thanksgiving holiday meet up. We are usually out of the country, but 2020 had other plans for Americans with passports.

Still, we were undeterred by the pandemic. I mean, we couldn’t leave the country, but we could travel, right? After all, we’ve been careful. MTM and I are mask pros. We know the difference between six feet and two meters, and we observe both without complaint. I could give a masterclass on hand washing while not touching my face. We almost never see anyone outside our tiny social bubble.

Plus, I’ve been lonely. Most of my friends are flung all over the world. Personal contact is like a cool tumbler of water after a sweaty workout, especially around the holidays. To quench my aching soul, we booked a flight to San Francisco for a holiday meet up with my friend Sarah.

Over the past couple of weeks, cases of covid-19 have spiked across the country.

Experts beg us to stay home. Overwhelmed hospital workers sign petitions pleading with everyone to do their part. Nurses are on strike. Our healthcare system is on the brink of collapse in multiple states.

Even though we are CONFIDENT we can travel safely, we heeded their call. We canceled our trip. We are staying home for Thanksgiving for the first time since 2003. Just the two of us.

I’m not whining. I could focus on what I don’t have. Lord knows I am reminded of what’s been taken every time I blink. Or try to write. Or interact with others. BUT I’M STILL HERE.

I’m grateful we had the means to plan and pay for a trip. Thankful we have a home in which to celebrate. Gobsmacked for our many blessings in this dumpster fire year.

Because we aren’t traveling, I penned a homage to Thanksgiving travel past. Memories are another form of gratitude, right?

Paris. 2003. The inaugural No Family Holidays With Family.

My first sleepless trans-Atlantic flight. Rain. Mud. Uninspiring trains. Gare du Nord. Notre Dame. Non-stop crying at every gorgeous thing I never thought I’d see as a little girl in podunk South Carolina. Pain au chocolat. Buttery crepes from a stand on Merchant and Ivory’s street. Impressionist wonders. A perfect soft-boiled egg. Rodin in mist. Our film camera on a chair in the Tuileries. No locks on a footbridge. Stained glass. Epic pots. This shot. A bottle of Pomery POP champagne to POP the question. This photo became our engagement announcement.

Nancy. 2007. The One Where I Ate Five Croissants for Thanksgiving.

The French rail system was on strike when we arrived. As we trained from Strasbourg to Nancy, saboteurs hit the rail line. Luckily, our train didn’t crash.

We made it to our destination in time to wander through Place Stanislas, a significant urban space in the French city of Nancy. MTM was a civil servant, working for our city as head of urban design. Meaning he never missed a chance to explore revitalized public spaces. In 1983, this was an ugly parking lot. I cannot believe that’s me strolling on the left of the frame!

Every time we walked past a bakery, we bought croissants. Since we were on foot, we could burn off five croissants each! Hey, the extra butter beat turkey, football, and family drama.

Outer space. I mean Helsinki. 2012.

Delta opened a new Atlanta-to-Helsinki route in 2012. Everybody called us crazy for flying so far north in November. We hoped for fat, frilly snowflakes, Finnish cuisine, crackling fires, and weird, wonderful architecture and design.

Like Helsinki’s Church of the Rock. (So maybe we were crazy!)

Built in 1969, the sanctuary was carved directly into rock and topped with a zooty dome. Imagine MTM in this photo. We have been walking uphill FOREVER. And we arrive at this, this EYESORE, this THING. Maybe our Helsinki trip should be renamed the one where MTM almost decided No Family Holidays With Family meant No Family Holidays With ME.

St Kitts. 2018.

After a couple of abominable years for me, a low key Thanksgiving trip to St Kitts staved off a nervous breakdown. Oh, I had one a few months later. But this villa on a volcano soothed my soul for several magical days. Helped me breathe. Temporarily restored sanity and calm.

We sat on our deck. Stared at rocky outcrops, miles of water and sky. Drank gin. Napped. Met monkeys. Read. Hiked through a jungle. Puzzled. Listened to night noises boom screech pop. Took long soaks in this bathtub. And didn’t want to return to our lives. A glorious escape.

Fjords of Norway. 2019.

I cannot believe I took this picture one year ago. The world was already changing, but we were oblivious as we flew from Charleston to JFK to Amsterdam to Alesund. A whirly-gig time of water rock snow light wonder.

Northern Lights. Spruce candles. Reindeer. Moose cards. Tunnels. The faintest dusting of snow. Stairs up a hillside. Chairs in a window. A fireplace I could stand in. Deck chairs and daydreams.

I stood on this beach, fingers frozen, and fought to capture the retreating sun. Never imagining one glance over my shoulder would lock the world down.

I talk about finding the amazing every day, but 2020 forced me to make it a practice.

We don’t know how long we have. While MTM and I are doing everything we can to avoid covid, we could die in our sleep. Be hit by a car. Receive a terminal diagnosis. However we plan, tomorrow is unknown.

For some, unknowns force us to choose. Do we get together with loved ones against expert advice? Because we all die eventually, right? Why not partake of our usual traditions over the holidays?

Covid-19 is fatally contagious. Innocent gatherings with one positive person spread this novel illness to hundreds or even thousands of people, many of whom are doing everything they can to stay well.

Give others more time to find the amazing. If you can, please stay home this holiday season.

If you’re still reading, THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE. Tell me about your Thanksgiving plans in a comment.