2020 has undeniably provided the best and the worst times of our life. When reflecting back on this past year; hindsight truly is 2020. According to the Internet, the expression means that it's easier to analyze and evaluate situations when we're looking back on them in the past, than when we're in the present moment.
While it's really easy to simply describe this past year as the most absolute crappiest year on record - that's not the whole truth.
With a little reflection and evaluation on the past year the good and the wonderful are there.
The challenges within the year allowed us to grow as a family and learn many new things. As we shifted into distance learning in the spring to close out the school year, the boys were able to add career and technical education to their list of classes. They became masters at weedeating, learned how to properly build fence, and both became proficient at welding. Carter even graduated to driving the new fancy lawnmower. In addition to the outside chores, they also found out it was oftentimes more efficient to make their own food rather than wait on mom to be done with more Zoom meetings. The kitchen was a little messier, but their future partners will thank me later.
Although COVID cancelled two planned vacations - we were able to vacation in our local mountains. We spent Father's Day with close family friends in our kids' first overnight backpacking adventure. The last mile of the hike took us three hours. Allowing all of us to believe that we were tougher than we believed that we were. Little did we know how tough we would all have to be later in the year.
Bradley and I also spent our 15th wedding anniversary deep in the mountains on backpacking trip. I had to learn to face a lot of fear and discomfort on this trip. Again, in hindsight this felt like training for the second half of 2020.
With distance learning and an early end to in person school days the opportunities to hunt and fish were endless. Carter even got to go to Idaho with his Uncle and cousins to hunt. He wasn't successful, but learned a lot about communal bunkhouse living and staying warm. Miles caught the fish of his life this year and both boys have now been trained at making any wild game into a tasty meal. Squirrel and dumplings anyone?
February brought devastating news that Bradley's father had brain cancer. After two operations, radiation, chemo, and Optune - he is doing well. The tumor has not grown. Pre-COVID Bradley and I spent two weeks in Portland with his family during the surgeries. We learned our way around the "hospital city on the hill" at OHSU. We also learned a lot about brain cancer, surgery, and treatments. Little did we know that these experiences would only serve to acclimate and benefit us a few months later when Miles, at nine years old, was also diagnosed with a brain tumor.
After two weeks of feeling very tired and experiencing debilitating headaches that induced vomiting I took Miles to his pediatrician in Medford. I remember telling Dr. Johnson "I know this sounds crazy, but we have lived the nightmare of having a brain tumor with his grandfather this year and I... it's just - Miles. . . something isn't right." Dr. Johnson told me that if the headaches got worse then we would do an MRI. The very next day they got worse. An MRI was ordered and I took a half day off to drive him to Medford for the imaging. As I sat in the room with him I could see into the room where the techs were looking at the imaging. Everything was taking a lot longer than expected. I looked into the room and could see them pointing at the screen and then I saw a doctor walk in. I looked back to my right to see Miles in the machine watching the screen. A tech came out and I went back to the room. A doctor told me that he was so sorry, but there was a large mass. I couldn't take my cell phone into the MRI room. I remember literally talking out loud, "I have to call my husband, this isn't happening, I need a phone, I need to call my husband." Bradley didn't answer as it was a 541 number and he was in a back appointment. I then called Dr. Johnson who told me that I would need to drive Miles to the nearest hospital and he would be airlifted right away to OHSU. I then began talking to myself again outloud. "I need to pull myself together, Joy pull yourself together, you have to go get Miles, you have to not cry. You can do this." In a blur, I was able to get Miles dressed and call Bradley again from my phone. "NOOOOOOO!" He yelled. "No, that's not right. That's not right." I drove us to the hospital, managed to find parking in a construction zone, and then make our way into the ER as fast as I could only to be stopped by a nice older man who was screening everyone. "Excuse me, have you been out of the country? Have you had a fever?" All questions we would eventually answer five to seven times a week for the next two months.
Bradley and Marcia were able to get to the hospital. Prior to their arrival a high school friend who works at the hospital didn't leave my side and worked her magic to get them in. She stayed past her shift and made sure I had water and sustenance to get me through the next few hours. This was the first of thousands of kind gestures to grace our family over the next few months. Only one parent could fly and we decided it would be me. As we made the final ambulance ride to OHSU up the long windy road, I was able to find a sense of comfort because I knew right where we were going. Bradley made the drive and at two in the morning he knew exactly which parking lot to go to and which entrance to find.
As we navigated the next 48 hours of meeting neurosurgeons and living in the ICU we knew the right questions to ask. We knew what to expect and we knew absolutely that Miles was in the best hands. All because we had been through this before. The day of the surgery Bradley's parents came up with Carter, Raylene, and Shelby. It was a beautiful day and we spent it outside on the lawn laughing and praying and crying. A few hours into the surgery the beeper buzzed and we were summoned into the hospital. At that point we were told that the tumor was cancerous. Anger. Despair. Defeat. Those emotions stayed with both of us for several minutes before we chose to come out and share the news with our family not with those emotions, but with hope and courage and fight. Our community near and far began to rally behind us. People changed their social media profile pics to pics of Miles. They held an amazing parade in his honor at home. Messages, flowers, balloons, and financial support. Famous people sent him vidoes, guitars, and signed baseballs. Our main street through town closed down when we came home to welcome him. 
High schoolers made hats to raise funds for us. Our entire stay for radiation was paid for by others. Yard signs with his picture adorned our community far and wide. While the actual world seemed to be falling apart, while we were holding our world together, we literally couldn't see past the goodness of others.
Two days before we found Miles's tumor we opened escrow on the biggest change we could have ever made for our family. After living in our beautiful home for over 11 years, we were presented with an opportunity to buy a piece of property in which we would be able to build a legacy not only for our kids but our grandkids. It would mean starting over. The house and property would need a lot of work. We took a leap of faith, sold our home in two days and began to prepare mentally and physically to change our lives forever. Little did we know that this change would pale in comparision to the medical battle we would begin for Miles.
When we decided to go to Portland to support Bradley's dad during his surgery we were away from our kids for the longest period of time in our lives. This experience was another training session for an even longer period of separation for our family. Miles and I left home on October 17th and didn't return home until December 11th. While Bradley was with us initially and he and Carter took a couple of trips north, our family was split up for a considerable amount of time. This experience made us stronger as a family. We grew to appreciate the roles that each of us played in the family. In each of our absences we all grew to fill the void. While Miles and I were gone our family and friends moved our belongings to the new property. As the country was facing an unpredencted election filled with such bitterness on both sides - we had a community of people from all different beliefs and political opinions coming together to help us.
As we close out this year and look back on the last 365 days we choose gratitude over hopelessness, optimism over regret, and adventure over the mundane. Hindsight is 2020 and we have no regrets.
"This might not be an easy time
There's rivers to cross and hills to climb
Some days we might fall apart
And some nights might feel cold and dark
When nobody wins afraid of losing
And the hard roads are the ones worth choosing
Some day we'll look back and smile
And know it was worth every mile Wherever we are is where I wanna be
And, honey, for once in our life
Let's take our chances and roll the dice
I can be your lucky penny
You can be my four-leaf clover
Starting over"
Chris Stapleton's Starting Over
