This morning, I woke up before anyone in my household, quietly slipped into my hospital scrubs, threw my hair up in a bun, slogged into my snow boots, and headed out into the cold dark morning. I knew it would be an icy commute to work but as I opened the garage door, I stood stunned for a moment, taking in the beauty of it all. A blanket of snow covered everything in sight like a blank canvas, a fresh start, after what had been the most difficult year I can ever remember (both personally and worldwide). The sky and the ground were the same color, and the sun was hours away from showing its face. “Hello there 2021,” I whispered cautiously as I felt myself slowly exhaling a year’s worth of heaviness. I breathed a prayer of thanks for a new year and for the deep knowing that I could face whatever lay in the 12 months ahead. I set out down my neighborhood street, my tires crunching through the thick barrier of perfectly fallen snow. If I could just get to the interstate, I hoped it would