Moving During a Plague Year

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Moving During a Plague Year

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2020 began as an optimistic year. In January, I decided to apply to the Public History MA program at the University of Colorado, Denver. We were living in Amarillo, Texas, and dreaming of a home that allowed us to thrive in our chosen fields, something that was unlikely in our hometown. So in early March of 2020, we decided to make the out-of-state move to Denver, Colorado. I had not yet been accepted to a grad program, and my husband did not have a job in our new city. "We'll figure it out." That's typically how it goes for two easy-going free spirits: set the destination and let the journey figure itself out. We looked forward to our April 4th move date as the reality of the Pandemic slowly set in. I was thankful for my workplace shutting down because it gave me plenty of time to pack up the house with a blissful ignorance for the year to come. I packed, taped, and organized dozens of cardboard boxes while dreaming about my sunny balcony in Denver. I planned going away parties and meticulously arranged coffee meet-ups with my closest friends.
Against my best efforts, the in-person experiences faded away as the isolation began to set in. "No worries," I thought, "this will only last a couple of weeks." Oh, how wrong I was. I'm typing this story on March 18, 2021, for an assignment that was given online after a lecture that was presented online. A year later and my life continues virtually.
We moved with hope for our future. We weren't hoping that the future involved facing our deepest emotional issues or learning how to love each other in complete isolation. It certainly did not contain a life of unemployment and disappointment. Slowly, begrudgingly, we got to know ourselves and began to heal from years of emotional suppression. I was diagnosed with ADHD for the first time in my life. It changed everything, and I owe my current success to the therapist that offered a discounted rate in my time of need. My husband learned just how deep his depression went.
But most importantly, we learned that we could do it, that we can hold on long enough to see the light at the end. My husband just accepted an incredible job, and my academic life is flourishing. Even as I grew increasingly annoyed at the idea of a "bright side," the bright side came and lit up just how far we've come as people and as a couple.

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This item was submitted on March 18, 2021 by Whitney Roberts using the form “Share Your Story” on the site “A Journal of the Plague Year”:

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