Hey, Mom. How are you? I made the mistake of writing my “anti-love letter” to 2022, and now I’m feeling the raw emotion of this entire sham of an year. Of course, I’ll share with you.
Ode to 2022
2022, tell me what have I done?
I thought you would be easy after 2021.
Last year’s COVID hardships made me lose my mom,
Took away my best friend, caused my family harm.
You started out with promise, year 2022.
The wounds had started healing, until you struck my little Roo.
You took away our springtime, leaving us with so much pain.
The doctors patched her up, but our broken hearts remained.
2022, why have you been so unkind?
She missed seeing her PaPa, her chance to say goodbye.
His absence has been felt, but her feelings she can’t share.
His memories are distant because our sadness she won’t bear.
The summer wasn’t better, year 2022.
The beach became a hospital with a parking lot view.
Part of Roo got fixed, with something new to address.
You made her daddy worse by plaguing him with stress.
2022, why must you force my tears?
The holidays are bitter, no longer having cheer.
It’s hard to keep it in and hide it with a smile.
The stage I’m in this year is no longer denial.
Another one you broke, year 2022.
She didn’t deserve her loss and major injury too.
Please grant her peace and comfort, a little joy too.
We cannot lose another, especially for Roo.
2022, you’re a cunning little imp.
On top of all your hardships, you’ve cursed me with a limp.
If you’re going to pick on someone, you should’ve kept it all with me.
Please pass this note along to 2023.
This is the song I’ve been listening to since I wrote this out. So much has happened, but losing you still hurts me most. Ramsey is almost healed, everyone is healing, but I’m stuck. One day I’ll be fine; just not today.
Hey, Mom! How are you? 