We’ve made it through the darkest day of this year, and I’m thinking about silver linings. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been cooped up since March 13. In all that time, I’ve been inside one store, once. I’ve seen a handful of friends at a distance in my yard or theirs. I’ve spent two days with my son and hugged no one but him and my husband. Thanksgiving happened by Zoom. Christmas will as well.

This hasn’t been easy. Emotionally, I’m on a hair trigger, ready to start yelling or crying at any moment. Look at me crosswise, and I’m likely to erupt. And I know I’m not special; there are thousands of us all over the country in the same shape.

But I’m managing to find silver linings this holiday season. Separated by 2,000 miles at Thanksgiving, my son and I got together on Skype, and I taught him to make pie. That wouldn’t have happened in a normal year because he would have had someone else to provide Thanksgiving pie, either me or a friend. Still unable to travel home, he’s now planning to make cherry pie for Christmas.

Silver lining.

I, too, did some extra cooking at Thanksgiving: I made miniature pies for all of the local relatives and friends we normally would have spent the holiday with. And then I made bread for them, too, while I was at it. I sent all of those off with the husband (my personal shopper and task rabbit), and he delivered them—at social distance—with our love. It made me happy, and I think it did the same for him and the recipients.

Silver lining.

Christmas is a different challenge. It will be the first we’ve ever spent without our son since he was born. So I baked a batch of his favorite Christmas cookies and shipped them to him. I also sent him a miniature artificial Christmas tree and his favorite set of Christmas ornaments—five, one-inch-tall “misfit toys” from the original Rudolph cartoon. Then I got out my paper and scissors and glitter and glue gun and made him ornaments from pictures of our two dogs. I can’t describe how excited it made me to put those together and mail them off to him as a surprise. I can tell you, though, that I then did the same for the co-workers for whom I could find pictures of their pets.

Yes, I’m making do. But occasionally I’m doing more than that: I’m making new celebrations and perhaps memories. I’m not going to say it makes up for the horror of this pandemic. It doesn’t. But it has helped me get through, and it helps my mental outlook to focus on these bright spots.

And lest you think this blog post is all holiday lights and cheer, let me assure you I’m still on a hair trigger. Just ask my husband.