Dad Daze: This New Year’s Eve – bring on 2021

I was so excited about the arrival of 2020 that I almost purchased a pair of those goofy New Year’s Eve glasses with the upcoming digits that celebrants sport in Times Square when the ball drops during “Dick Clark’s Rockin’ Eve.”

I was looking forward to 2020 ever since my son Eddie, who graduated from high school in June, entered kindergarten. I did the math during those innocent days that I miss and miraculously figured out the date he would receive his sheepskin back in 2007.

“Can you believe that you will graduate in 2020?” I said to Eddie on the morning of his first day of school. “Thirteen years from now, you’ll receive your diploma in such a cool year. 2020! How awesome is that?”

Nostradamus I’m not. I’m a terrible prognosticator. I’m reminded of that each week of the NFL season. I’m part of a small-potatoes pool with my college friends.

“Man, I’m so glad I’m not a degenerate gambler,” I say to myself each Sunday night after another poor attempt at handicapping NFL games.

Even though there were reports of what was happening in China last December, I didn’t think the novel coronavirus would be anything more than the SARS outbreak 17 years ago. I didn’t pay much attention to it since I was sidetracked, as usual, by my four children.

Eddie had recently signed his letter of intent for college baseball. My daughter Jillian, then a junior in college in New York City, scored the lone internship at a music publicity group, which has clients such as Radiohead, U2, Paul McCartney and Arcade Fire.

My son Milo was acclimating to life as a high school freshman, and my daughter Jane once again had the best grades of any Condran child in elementary school. There was so much to think about and so much to celebrate. I couldn’t wait to pop the cork on New Year’s Eve with my children.

I have so many fond memories of ringing in the New Year with my parents, and I enjoyed the same with my kids. How cool to start a new decade together and toast what a remarkable, life-changing year 2020 would be? Well, I did get part of that right. I never guessed how our lives would be turned upside down.

I also didn’t know I would be singing “Auld Lang Syne” without my children. I get it. The last thing a 21-year-old wants to do is spend the party night of the year and this time, of the decade, with their parents. The same for a 17-year-old. I did expect Milo to hang out, but, at 14, friends beckoned.

I purchased Jane’s favorite ice cream, chocolate peanut butter, but even a girl who just turned 10 had plans. Janey had a big New Year’s sleepover with her young pals.

It was the first time since 1997 that I didn’t count down to the new year with one of my children. What else was going to be taken away? Halloween? The Fourth of July?

Little did I know that we would be robbed of virtually everything in 2020. I never imagined that Eddie’s high school graduation would be derailed due to a pandemic.

Much of what we took for granted was gone, at least temporarily. It made me appreciate the time with my children more. It has made me look back at photos and realize how fortunate I’ve been to have been there for so many benchmarks that others missed due to military service or work-related responsibilities.

We can’t be upset over what’s out of our control, whether it’s a child’s choice to spend New Year’s Eve with friends or if the novel coronavirus alters our reality.

It’s uncertain what 2021 will bring. There is hope, but odds are that it’s going to be a bumpy ride. Jillian will graduate from Pace University during the spring and is slated to graduate at Radio City Music Hall in May.

After 3½ years at Pace, she has a 3.91 GPA and thrived living in New York City. Jillian believes that classic line from “New York, New York”: “If you can make it there, you can make it anywhere.” Jillian’s college experience has exceeded my expectations. Her academic achievements and two amazing internships should help her land a job in the music industry.

That’s fantastic, but I doubt that there will be a graduation ceremony for Jillian and her classmates at one of Manhattan’s most-storied venues.

When I look back at 2020, I never envisioned such a year when I watched the ball drop on Times Square. I can’t believe how many lives were lost to COVID-19.

I don’t know of anyone who passed away due to the coronavirus, but I do know of folks who have respiratory issues after living through the nightmare of COVID-19.

My daughter’s co-worker’s friend recently broke his ankle and had a blood clot. Shortly after, he suffered a heart attack. He was driven to a hospital in Memphis, but it was at capacity due to COVID-19. While he was en route to a hospital in Arkansas, he died.

It’s obviously been a terrible year, and most people have been touched by coronavirus in some way.

Getting ready to ring in 2021 doesn’t offer any guarantees, but it reminds me of the creative process of the Beatles’ “It’s Getting Better.”

“I’ve got to admit it’s getting better, a little better all the time,” Paul McCartney wrote. McCartney was stuck, and his songwriting partner John Lennon filled in the gap: “It can’t get no worse.”

It can’t get no worse is how I feel about 2021. Let’s run with a new start after the first year of the decade elapses.

On a personal note, I would be a liar if I said that 2020 was a disaster for me. I was fortunate to land with The Spokesman-Review. I started nine days before the pandemic altered life as we know it.

“Your timing is impeccable,” Managing Editor Joe Palmquist cracked.

I have no complaints. I love my beat, and, after covering entertainment and sports for much of the last quarter century, I have a parenting column.

I’m following the old axiom, which is write what you know even though my children would beg to differ.

The pandemic is out of my control, but I’m so thankful for the support from some of the most amazing colleagues I’ve ever had and also for such a wonderful readership.

I’ve never received such thoughtful letters. Spokane is such a literate town. The common denominators between Spokane and Philadelphia, where I’m from, is that both towns are overshadowed by other cities (Seattle, New York), and folks tend to stick around. If you don’t move to another environment, you might not realize how special your city is, and Spokane is such a gem.

So whether I’m with my children or not this New Year’s Eve, I will be thinking about how fortunate I am to be part of the Spokane community and hope that 2021 will be the start of a new, welcome chapter. Here’s to a new year with fresh possibilities and a return to some of the familiar, which we crave.