Recently, I actually got a card that boldly proclaimed, “Farewell to 2020, Good Riddance,” rather than the usual Christmas greetings. I think we all agree: 2020 was a killer year in multiple ways. I did not lose anyone I knew to the coronavirus, but I knew many who were terribly ill, and a justified fear was everywhere.

The eternal moderator for New Year’s Eve celebrations, Dick Clark, has been gone since 2012, but when the ball dropped on New Year’s Eve before an empty Times Square, Ryan Seacrest was the new moderator featuring live performances for people watching at home. I have never been eager for such open celebrations in the bitter cold, and I often found the entertainment mediocre, but having a New Year’s celebration is essential.

I am ready for a new year, though the holiday creates a melancholy moment that encourages everyone to be philosophical about our brief time on earth.

I am particularly vulnerable to the many “In Memoriam” segments one finds on local and national television broadcasts around New Years. It is always sad to see the famous artists, politicians and scientists who have left us. During the months since the pandemic struck, the PBS News Hour broadcast remembrances for ordinary citizens who died from COVID-19 and who were not famous. I was moved to see faces and hear brief biographies of people I never knew and will never meet. During the last Gulf War, PBS did something similar by showing names and faces without music.

It was very effective.

Ironically, when I look over my retrospective articles from 2018 and 2019, the tone is quite pessimistic. Perhaps the last four years have been difficult, period. We have to look ahead, of course. The vaccine will make a difference and, finally, the virus may fade and the economy will revive. Progress will be made to slow and stop a very dangerous climate change. We will no longer need to quarrel with the super individualists who refuse to wear masks in public. A question remains: When Joe Biden is sworn in as President, will the current divide among Americans persist?

I sincerely hope these bitter divisions end.

As one gets older, of course, one loses more friends and family members. I still remember Harald Wyndham, a local poet an editor, who died too soon from a sudden cancer. Toward the end, Harald said he discovered the true meaning behind a number of his favorite poems that he did not recognize before, including “When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be” by John Keats. Harald kept his positive attitude to the end.

Music will soon ring through the downtown pavilion for Revive@5 and some joy will return. Idaho’s Steve Eaton is preparing a new album in progress, 11 years in the making with 12 new songs featuring strong support from established musicians, including his son, Marcus Eaton, a celebrated guitarist. A review will appear when it is ready. Local live theatre will also appear, again.

Can I sincerely wish that a happier new year is upon us?

Michael Corrigan graduated from San Francisco State with an Master of Arts degree in English and creative writing. He was active in theater and attended the American Film Institute. He retired from Idaho State University as an instructor of English and speech communications. He has written several books, including “Confessions of a Shanty Irishman,” “Mulligan” and “These Precious Hours.” NPR broadcast his play for two readers: “Letters from Rebecca.”