First Victorian House to the Last

It is our 40th anniversary today. That is a big number. Four decades. Half of a lot of people's lives. Hard to believe, other than when you do the math, and I realize that in order to be close to being eligible for Medicare and also be in the second highest COVID risk category that I am indeed quite old, does it even seem possible. It all started in this beautiful Victorian house on Charlesfield St. in Providence. The house was built in 1869 and had undergone many iterations before we lived there, and a few since we left, but it is a regal house even if we didn't always treat it as such. We found each other there, as well as making some life long friends, and learning how to live with other people in a big way. I learned a lot about myself living in a housing co-op and I definitely learned how to cook for a crowd, skills that have served me well.

Forty years down the road, children grown, we live in this house, built in 1864, during the Civil War. We have returned to a place that reminds us of our youth, and truthfully, it was in pretty similar condition to our first Victorian house when we started with it. This year, the year of the pandemic, has taught me quite a few things, some of them valuable. One is that a sense of community is not universal. It tuens out that there are a lot of people who do not see themselves as part of and responsible to a community. As a health care worker I have been largely spared COVID deniers and conspiracy theorists. I can shut that down within seconds, the stories I know are so sad. It hasn't been an easy year, but it also has not been the hardest we have endured. In the end, I continue to be forever grateful, going back to my mispent youth, that I found the love of my life so early on, and that we had this shared communal experience. May we make progress in 2021.