America’s collective mental health is suffering right now. Nine months into this pandemic, we find ourselves nearing 300,000 lives lost, millions without work, endless lines for food, and a more distrustful country. America felt like a country standing on shaky ground at the beginning of 2020. Now with light at the end of the tunnel, the ground feels even less secure.

With this on my mind, I approach my annual person of the year letter. Before I reveal who it is, I want to issue a challenge. Right now, think of a person who made this year remotely bearable. Think of all they did and how they made you feel. Now, before the clock strikes midnight on this year, make a plan to thank them. Send them a postcard. Give them a call. Buy a gift card. Or, if you are a writer in desperate and constant need of attention and affirmation, write them something for the whole world to read. Whatever you do, do not let this year end without letting them know how much they mean to you.

Without a shadow of doubt in my mind, my 2020 would have not been possible without the friendship of Elizabeth Jones.

Elizabeth and I knew of each other at the University of Central Oklahoma. We both belonged to the rather small Greek system, so it was nearly impossible not to know everyone. Being several years older, I was leaving UCO as she was beginning her journey.

After I moved to Seattle, we made our friendship Facebook-official. Then one year, I was back in Edmond for Christmas and we made a plan to meet up for drinks. After a few too many, she graciously allowed me to sleep on her couch. Then and there a true friendship was born.

Years later, Elizabeth would come to Seattle for a visit and meet my partner. Proceeding that visit, we first hatched a plan to hike the Pacific Crest Trail. Real-world responsibilities did not allow that journey to take place, but the call was hard to ignore, and not something we could shake.

Then two years ago, I called Elizabeth out of the blue. I had just moved to Los Angeles and an opportunity to make our dream come true presented itself. Without hesitation, Elizabeth agreed. Separately, we began buying gear, researching, and training. Together, we arranged a monthly phone call to check-in and see how preparation for the journey was going. With each passing month, we served as support for the other. If you know Elizabeth, the girl can talk. Those phone calls could last for hours, but they were everything to me.

On March 13th, we began what we thought would be a life-changing six-month journey. COVID-19 had other plans. Later in the year, we would get together once again for an attempt at the Colorado Trail.

As I have transitioned back to life in Seattle, it has been Elizabeth who has remained a rock in my life. Looking for work and adjusting to our new normal has not been easy, but Elizabeth has remained a friend and council through all the hardships. Dealing with her own challenges, I can only hope I have been half of the friend she has been.

Elizabeth, I want to publicly thank you for your friendship, adventurous spirit, curiosity, and unapologetic feminism. I want to thank you for the culturally enlightening conversations, your progressive nature, and values that shine in everything you do. Knowing you has made my life richer and more complete. I cannot vividly picture my life without you in it. While we were not able to complete our adventure, I know excitement and joy of countless variations await us in the future. Friend, I cannot wait to see what comes next. Thanks for being a friend.

Be good to each other,

Nathan 

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