Today Was Supposed to Be a Good Day

On disappointment, canceled plans, and the hope of good days ahead

Today was supposed to be a good day.

Today was supposed to be a really good day.

For months and months, since late last year, March 24th had been circled and bolded on my calendar and others’. Our very first community read-along and author visit — planned for more than six months. Tirelessly, happily, anxiously. Flights were scheduled, hotels were booked. We were flying in our first author, someone I had gotten to know through dozens of emails. Our town was excited. We were excited.

We hosted a book discussion. We sold copies. We made videos. We printed and displayed huge posters — the ones we wanted her to sign, the ones we wanted to hang on a certain wall and add to each year, with each new author. Now they still sit out in the library on display, since we had to leave — urgently and swiftly — last week, still excitedly announcing the event. When we’re allowed back in (in weeks? months?), I’ll see them sitting there, and I’ll feel defeated, deflated, disappointed. I’ll pluck them up from around the library and I won’t know what to do with them. My heart will break a little, because it was supposed to be a good day. And now today is nothing special at all — except in its absurdity.

We made custom event shirts at work. The team wore them to our book discussion event just a couple of weeks ago at a local cidery — when life was still normal. There’s a picture on Facebook: the four of us standing in front of the bar, arms slung around each other, proud and excited. That night, the questions bounced back and forth, the excitement building among our readers. I got home feeling on top of the world. I carefully laid the shirt out in my room, ready to wear it again today. Now it lays crumpled in a pile of t-shirts, because today was supposed to be a good day — and I was supposed to wear that shirt — and now I’m not.

Everything had come together just the way we’d imagined. Tonight, I should have been at dinner, chatting and laughing with my colleagues and our author. After that, I should have been sitting on a makeshift stage, posing questions our readers had submitted.

I should have been meeting her and smiling and welcoming her when we picked her up from the airport. I should have been sad when she left, but instead, she was never here at all.

Our readers should have gotten their books signed. So should I. I should have helped corral the line that wrapped around the table, because everyone was so excited to meet her — and frankly, so was I. It was supposed to be a good day. A good night.

But a wrench got thrown in the works. We only knew it was going to be good. And while I know we had no choice but to cancel — that it’s for the best, that the world is broken right now — I still can’t help but look at the calendar, see today’s date, the one etched in my brain for so long, and think: dammit. Today was supposed to be a really good day.

I am frustrated. I am scared. I am sad. Not just for today, but for all the days that stretch before us — unknown. The days that were supposed to be good days. The dinners with friends. The birthdays we should be celebrating. The ice cream cones we should be eating outside, not six feet apart. The quiet afternoons spent thrifting and wandering stores. The weddings. The graduations. Caleb was supposed to “graduate” from preschool this year. Wear a tiny cap and gown. Just another good day that will now pass by — unnoticed, uncelebrated, un-good.

This isn’t just about our author visit, though it may sound like it. It’s about the bigger picture. It’s about learning how to live with disappointment. All of us had good days planned — ones we looked forward to for so long. Instead, we cross them out. We erase them. We cancel. It’s necessary. But it still hurts.

Today was supposed to be a good day — a really good day — but now it’s nothing at all. Just another day lost in this strange vacuum we’re all living in… for who knows how long.

Tomorrow, I’ll get back to doing what I have to do. I’ll try to stay hopeful. I’ll look ahead to the good days to come — even if I don’t know when they’ll be.

Even though today was supposed to be a good day, even though you probably had to cancel some good days too… I know we’ll have them again. Maybe even better ones — because now we know what it feels like to lose them. Now we know how fragile it all is.

Today was supposed to be a good day. And even though it isn’t… there will be good days to come. We just have to hold on.