Just a thought… We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope. [Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.]

You can watch a video version of this journal on my Facebook page or here on YouTube.

March fourth. “March forth!” It’s as corny as I am, but this is a day that I always loved for telling us what to do – and what we have to do.

I don’t know if you feel this way, but let me share something that we’ve been talking about here in our house. There’s this feeling of hope – this beautiful sensation of knowing that we are over the hump, and although you could say “it’s all downhill from here,” that can be taken two ways: we’re heading downward and not in a good way, or we can put it in neutral and let it coast, pumping the brakes occasionally to make sure we stay within the speed limit (and, yes, I do this in our neighbourhood all the time).

The vaccine rollout timeline is getting clearer by the day, at least here in BC. In fact, today, my dad in a residence in Kelowna is getting his and he can’t wait. He’s had to be patient, like everyone else, but he’s excited. Of course, this means that he and his gal pal will soon ramp up lamenting about not having his car, but we’ll take that obstacle as it comes.

Here on the home front, our son-in-law is working in a job he loves and this means that we’re picking up our Colin from school more days, so that’s an added bonus. Fantastic – more boy time. And if you’re a pining grandparent, I wish the same for you, very soon.

The weather’s getting better, the daffodils are up (I’ll duck now), the cherry blossoms are out and the days are definitely getting longer. In ten days we put our clocks ahead.

But this feeling – this hope – is something that a lot of people are unfamiliar with and, if you’re like me, you’re reluctant to get too excited. If this past year has taught us anything, it’s that indeed when there’s a light at the end of the tunnel, sometimes it is a train.

But hear me out. This is actual hope. I’m starting to dream about travel again – in fact our Ama Waterways Rhine and Swiss Alps river cruise is a go for late next spring and we’ve already had two more couples sign up to join Mike Cooper, Rob and me, in addition to those who were coming before the cancellations. You can drop our friend Gerry Koolhof a line for more info.

Honestly, I just can’t wait to pack a suitcase and go somewhere again. I fantasize about hotel rooms. I see a murder in a motel on one of the ancient Law and Order episodes we tape daily and I go, “Yeah, I’d stay there.” So that’s where my head is at.

All signs are pointing to hope and to letting ourselves feel that again: to make plans, in pencil so far, or somewhere in our electronic calendars that can easily be moved or deleted. But once we all feel healthy and safe again, the doors will swing wide open and we’re going to start to climb back. There are signs the economy will explode – in a good way – and we’ll see what they are calling echoes of the last century’s “Roaring Twenties.” (Let’s not concentrate on the memory that the “Dirty Thirties” followed, but we can use it as a cautionary tale.)

Life will never be the same as it was before one year ago, but hopefully and full of hope, we look ahead. We embrace this feeling: one that allows us to take a deep breath and actually let it out, too. We’ve been waiting to exhale for an awfully long time.

So, we March fo(u)rth. Have a great weekend and I’ll be back with you on Monday. And thank you, always, for coming by.