Getting Through

These past two and a half years have been like no others for all of us. We each experienced them in varying unexpected ways, sometimes tragic, sometimes just okay, and others joyful. At least that was my reality.

I found myself retired from teaching sooner than planned. I also found isolation a great excuse for gaining ten pounds – I still can’t explain why I didn’t just get outside and cycle. Fear of the dreadful unknown virus? Depression about the state of our world?

In June 2020 I became a grandmother. With the strength of a mini tornado, Jack brought a new kind of intense joy (and fear) into my life. When my daughter’s family leave ended, I began caring for him a few days each week. I watched and learned from this tiny bundle of new life, always acutely aware of the gift, the privilege, I enjoyed by having him close, aware that others suffered from not seeing, smelling, holding loved ones – new and old – because of isolation mandates. My husband, daughter, son-in-law, grandson, and I made a pod of five. We got through together.

And I wrote. Over time, my scribbles turned into a manuscript. I’m not sure what I’ll do with it yet, but the process of writing Pandemic Baby: Letters to My Grandson Before He Could Read helped me get through these past few years, in the way of all creative work, through the temporary escape from the day-to-day.