It was our first New Years’ together as a married couple. Although COVID had already stolen the opportunity to partake in any parties, still, I was unprepared for what would come. 

I spent much of New Year’s Eve at my mom’s hospital bed. The day before we had taken her to the emergency room, uncertain what was happening. Due to the pandemic restrictions, the hospital was allowing one visitor only, so my husband was left at mom’s home while I was by her side. It was frightening to see my mom’s decline without knowing what was happening. I felt isolated and alone. I wished that my husband could be by my side to comfort me.

This was not how I anticipated spending New Year’s Eve or what ended up being over a month. Sitting there alongside my mother, trying to be her stronghold. I was desperately hoping the doctors would find solutions. I found myself worrying about what this would mean for her future... Would she be able to return home? Would she need more long-term care? It was my desire to make the best decisions for her and to love her well, but at times I was uncertain if I was doing any of it right. It all takes a significant toll and someday I just felt like I couldn’t take anymore. By the end of most days, all I could do was cry. 

On New Year's Eve, my husband and I tried to make it as joyful and special as possible. While I was at the hospital, he prepared a nice meal for us to share. At midnight we took a moment to drop to our knees together in prayer. 

We prayed for a year ahead of us that was filled with hope and anticipation but also fear and anxiety over how much we didn’t have answers to. We were unsure what would happen with my mom. My husband was to be leaving the country to go back to his native country. With everything happening with my mom I didn’t want to be so far away from him. His travel would mean an even longer time apart and even when he returned we would be separated for his quarantine time as well. With all the COVID concerns and restrictions I was concerned for his health and the financial implications. We were considering a move across the country later in the year for my husband to pursue further education. My husband was unemployed since November. We are expecting a child in July. 

Photo by Laura-Ann Smid

Life is filled with so many highs and lows. But the chaos of hard times and unknowns can distract us from what we know are blessings in life. There were so many adventures and uncertainties that we knew we needed to pause and invite God into all of them. We offered our year ahead and all that it held to Him, for we trust that He has a plan for us.  

A couple of days later we had a tearful airport goodbye as my husband headed back to Vancouver while I remained to care for my mom in Saskatchewan. It was difficult to say goodbye knowing it would be a month until we were together again. As newlyweds that seemed like a very long time. 

When we exchanged vows just four months earlier we acknowledged that we would be faithful in good times and in bad times. I never imagined that these early days would have so many trying times. For those first couple days, I took comfort in coming home after a long day in the hospital to have my husband’s embrace to greet me. It was disappointing especially in these stressful times not to have him close. 

The days went by, filled with hospital visits and video calls to my husband and I found myself feeling overwhelmed by the heaviness of it all. I desperately wanted to have the support of my husband more proximate. I wanted to be a patient and loving daughter when things were difficult. In the midst of it all, I found myself needing to seek daily reasons to look for joy. 

Some days it was easy to find joy and other days it was more of a chore. There were days I was moved by the beauty of creation, which is not always easy in a Saskatchewan winter. I would be surprised some days, finding myself smiling at the sound of the freshly fallen snow crunching beneath my feet. There were mornings when a stunning sunrise took my breath away as it spoke of the promise of another new day. There were many days when it was the thoughtful gestures of friends and family that made the load more bearable. A long phone call with my sister. The unexpected generosity of gift cards to keep me caffeinated and fed. The joy of being able to attend Mass. 

But there were also days when the joy gave way to a flood of tears. There were days when the Saskatchewan winter was no longer magical but just unbearably cold. Days when my mom’s condition seemed to be getting worse and she seemed to be slipping away from the person I know and love. Days when I felt helpless and hopeless. There were friends and family who longed to do more to support me through this all, but due to pandemic limitations were unable to be there in the ways they desired to be.

This has been a challenging season to live with joy. They say when it rains it pours and I have definitely felt like I am in a flood at times. The Bible passage where Jesus and his disciples are in the boat in the midst of the storm (Mark 4:35-41) has come to mind a few times in this journey. 

As the waves beat against the boat and fill it the disciples feel the imminent danger. They don’t know how much more of this they can withstand. There have been days where I have felt the same, I don’t know if I can take one more thing, Jesus. Yet, in the midst of the storm, Jesus is right there. He is in the boat and sleeping. The disciples rouse him and ask if he even cares that they are perishing? Jesus is quick to respond, calming the wind and the waves. When the storm has passed he turns to his disciples and asks them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” (V 40). 

Joy does not mean that life goes perfectly. Joy actually often comes at times we least expect it and in ways we least expect it. In moments when I was feeling the most discouraged, when I was willing to look for it I often found joy. Especially when I needed it most. Despite the challenges of these seasons, I have been surprised by joy.

While in the hospital with my mom, I had an opportunity to reconnect with a friend from 20 years ago. In August, he was ordained to the priesthood and as God’s providence would have it he serves as a chaplain to the hospital my mom was in. He came to offer my mom the sacrament of the sick. The following week he offered to come to celebrate Mass in her hospital room. That mass happened to fall on the feast day of Sts. Timothy and Titus, and Timothy, in particular, has become a good friend to me in recent years. Sitting there in one of our most vulnerable times together as mother and daughter, both my mom and I were blessed by the gift of his priesthood and the great generosity he showed us. 

Throughout this stormy time in my own life, my faith has been stretched. God has given me the faith to see moments of His care and concern, even though the storm was still raging around me. He has given me the gift of seeking joy and finding He is always right here with me.