In The Eye

What strange days we are living. I hear so many people lamenting 2020 and wishing the year away. I get it. This has been a year filled with pain and fear and real hardship. I can say that hope has come and gone many times over in my little life. Some hours, days and weeks are harder than others, but there is always something to remind me of the beauty in this world and the goodness of its people. I’m not wearing rose-colored glasses, I’m simply opening my eyes. Little things like the hummingbird that comes to visit my strepto carpella, the lingering orioles in the yard, the fat alabaster hydrangeas blooming in my garden and the snowy white gladiolas on the kitchen counter are all reminders that the world is still a beautiful place. Last night we were out for a walk under rumbling skies before the storm and a hawk flew low straight overhead. It stopped me in my tracks. I could hear its wings. What an amazing creature. I’ve been noticing monarchs by day and fireflies by night. These are the things that keep me tender and trusting.

There are many things I could have done without this year, but this time out of time has had its gifts too. All the extra family time has been a positive thing. We sit down for family dinner just about every night. Dinner is at 8 o’clock. That may seem late, but it’s just what works now that we’re all working. During summer, our meals are simpler: something for the grill, something from the farmer’s market and maybe a starch. The ritual of coming together at the end of the day is a comfort especially during these unsettling times.

One of the best things since Ted moved home prematurely is that he and Lily have grown closer. They have more of a camaraderie. He comes home after a day at work and asks where she is. It’s sweet. It makes my mama heart swell to see their relationship changing, growing, strengthening.

In recent weeks, things are definitely starting to feel more normal. The kids both have jobs. He’s getting a taste of the 9-5 life pitching stocks. She’s got a fun summer job scooping ice cream at the lakefront. He’s often on the golf course or at the club working out. She’s hanging with her girlfriends, long boarding and going to the beach or pool. She had a date with a boy on Sunday. Softball started last week. It’s a shortened season that almost ended before it began when one of her teammates tested positive. The health department gave them the go ahead to continue because of the low risk nature of their interactions. I felt relief in the moment, but then a little dread as I realized that any face to face instruction this fall seems unlikely. Everything is still in limbo.

UW Madison committed to face to face instruction until Thanksgiving one week. Then the next week they added that large lectures would be online. If a large lecture is anything over 50 students, that’s about all of them. Reading between the lines, I garner that the majority of learning will be virtual. I’m not too pleased with my alma mater right now because I feel like we’re being manipulated. No one is excited to pay big dollars for the education students got this spring. The university needs the dollars. They need us to think we’re going to get what we’re paying for. Ted’s signed a lease on an apartment so he’ll go either way. We're a little committed. Stuck. I have the spreadsheet complete of all the things we need to buy to set up his pad. We're forging ahead. He can move in in a month. Back when he came home in March, this seemed so far away. Months ago, I had hope that things would be very different than they are now. Better not worse.

It is what it is my mom would say. I wonder what else she would have to say about this world right now. I wonder what we’ll say about this time when we have the ability to look back in a year, five, ten. What will the narrative be? For now, I’ll continue to focus on the extraordinary ordinary and the horizon.