Skip to main content

Things I promise not to take for granted

 Since March 13, 2020, our family has been together, 24/7, in our 1200-square-foot home. Yes, of course, we take walks and run occasional errands to get out of the house...but we all work and school here now. I feel somewhat guilty saying it, but I will miss this phase when it's over. All the togetherness can be intense, but I love having my children close by all the time, hearing their funny conversations and ridiculous dinner table banter. I love Chris cooking dinner most evenings and sharing all the household responsibilities; in fact, I think he's doing more of the household stuff now than I am. 

With full awareness that in a few months life will go back to a more normal pace, I hope, now that two vaccines are available, I am trying to catalog all these good moments and special days. Happy is 15 now and will be driving in less than a year. He wants to get a job. I know soon he will be living on his own and I'll see him so much less. I wonder if he's tired or annoyed with how often I hug him recently? Zippy will enter middle school next year, too, which means a whole new phase for him, especially as his brother starts to pull away and be more independent. Honey and I will be finding our way as a couple again, which will be exciting and new, yet strange territory after so many years of thinking first of our children. 

This year has been difficult and heartbreaking in so many ways. In fact, it's almost too much to comprehend today, the trauma that we've all been through. I'm so grateful that we're healthy, that my faraway family is healthy, and that there seems to be a light at the end of this dark tunnel. For the first time these past couple of weeks, I'm thinking about the things I miss, the little things about regular pre-pandemic life, in an effort to mark their specialness when they return. 

These are the things I used to take for granted that I will hold as sacred and special from now on: 

  • Live music - especially hearing my son's band perform live 
  • Movies in a theater - and movie theater popcorn
  • Plays and musicals in a theatre, especially community theatre
  • School - classrooms, conferences, seeing kids playing on the playground
  • Church services - I hope to never watch another online service
  • A cup of tea with a friend on my sofa - or her sofa, it doesn't matter
  • Specialty food stores and gift shops...even the mall
  • Coffee shops! And simply meeting someone for an Americano catch-up
  • Singing with people other than my children
  • Dancing in a place other than my living room
  • Birthday parties, holiday parties, anytime parties
  • Traveling on an airplane, train, or even a bus
  • Bars and restaurants - the din of other people enjoying food and each other
  • Book club in person
  • A quiet house all to myself
  • Eyeglasses that don't immediately fog up because of my face covering
  • Making plans beyond one week, knowing things that are true today will be true then
  • Allowing my kids to hang with friends without worrying they'll get sick
  • Hearing my kids and their friends giggling together inside our home
  • Hugs. I hope the world is ready for the
    hugs I have stored over these past 10 months.

I don't miss the hustle-bustle of before. In fact, I am sort of dreading going back to the way things were, when I had to run kids to appointments or go across town for meetings every evening. I wonder, too, how we'll re-adapt to "normal" life; will we just jump back in, or will there be some pain points? And will I say no to things more often, or ask if we can do it by zoom? What does "normal" even mean now? 

I don't know any real answers in 2020. Everything has changed. But I do know that when hugs and movie theatres are a thing again, I'll be first in line for both. 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A boy and his cat

Our backyard is a decent size and backs to woods. Every time a visitor steps onto our back deck, friend, family, and neighbor alike, we hear "What a yard! You need to get that kid a dog!" Apparently this is the natural progression here in Suburbia: house + yard + boy child + dog = happiness. Now, it's one thing to hear about our need of dog from friends or family who know us, but coming from neighbors and relative strangers it gets a bit old. My first response is always, Why do you think so? Which makes people hem and haw because they don't want to insult me by saying what's really on their minds: Because you're depriving that child of a human sibling , and he needs a friend . One problem: We're not dog people. I mean, we like other people's dogs, and I often think having a dog would be a major motivation to walk long distances regularly and get myself into shape. But a dog is like a toddler who will never grow up. They are needy, and they bark and poo...

Ottomania!

I've been spending a lot of time thinking about ottomans. A ridiculous amount of time, actually, given the number of other things I truly should focus my thoughts on. I find, though, that when the world outside gets scary (and scary is a truly relative term these days) I turn to online shopping for things I don't really need. Actually, it's more like online browsing; I rarely purchase. I spend hours searching for, oh, erasable colored gel pens or standing desks or all-natural curly-hair gel or the perfect black sweater. (Yes, these are things I've fixated on over this winter; I still haven't clicked "buy" nor settled on any of them.) This week, it's ottomans. By the way, my girl  Brené  Brown would call this behavior numbing . I'm okay with that. Because online browsing is way less detrimental (so far) than chain smoking, which is what I'd really like to do when the world is scary. It's a way to escape, to daydream, to focus on things tha...

Grace happens

Today Honey's roommate in room 364 at Maine Medical Center was discharged. Some other day I'll tell you about why Honey is in the hospital again, but this story is about the roommate because it's way more interesting. Let's call him Elton, because all I really know about him is he plays guitar in an Elton John tribute band and he's originally from the very northern part of England, bordering Scotland. (Or as Honey described it, "that place in England where the Roman Empire decided, nope, those Celts are crazy, and put up a wall.") Elton was in room 364 before Honey arrived, and what struck me immediately, besides his delightful accent and soothing Liam-Neeson-esque voice, was his gentle, good-natured manner. He was going through heck from a botched surgery and compartment syndrome - pain and gore and fear of losing the use of his dominant hand - yet he spoke kindly and softly to every person who came into his room. Every time a nurse walked in, Elton gre...