In the minutes after getting my jab, it was hard not to think about time. If my mother had fallen now instead of then, she likely would have already received her COVID shots.
In 2019 my mom died. In 2020 we had a family suicide, a botched burial, and a catastrophic pandemic. Now, I’m looking ahead to 2021 — with (gasp!) hope.
My childhood minivan was layers of disgusting. It was also a place where I spent a ton of time with my mom when she was alive. This is the story of both of those things.