PE Class
With Covid-19, each day brings a new level of uncertainty
School has gone from a building to a website.
Work has gone from an obligation to a privilege.
My home has gone from a place of solace to a multi-functional command center for the four members of my family.
My 20-year old daughter was forced to return from her thriving, multi-cultural university campus in Texas where warm weather had already ushered in shorts and tank tops back to our mountain life in Colorado, still covered in snow. She wasn’t happy. And she let us all know about it.
My 16-year old son was told abruptly that his high school baseball season was cancelled, but to keep in shape, keep practicing—but alone. Kind of hard to play catch with yourself.
Each day I walk from the bedroom to living room, overhearing an explanation of axes and hyperbole in Calculus to the expected format for a research paper on a world-wide injustice. I could care less about calculus and wonder if this current world-wide pandemic is not a huge injustice?
I kept looking for something, anything, that looked familiar.
We log-in to Webinars to learn the changes to college recruiting due to no-contact and about virtual college visits, Meditation, Well-Being and even Book Clubs and Happy Hours! I feel fortunate that my laptop can go with me to different rooms of the house, the desk, the bed, the floor.
At night, we argue, mostly in good humor, about who’s turn it is to cook. I am surprised that we sit at the kitchen table long after we’re finished eating. We look at a YouTube videos, my friends are doing this, do you think someone created this virus on purpose? It’s animated, controversial, and entertaining even though we’ve been social distancing in our home together for many days.
When we finally get up from the table, we head out on a walk around the neighborhood. Initially it was only two, maybe three of us and the dog. One night, my husband joined and it became the norm. Our neighbors, who are often outside on their screened-in porch yell out, “Time for PE class!” Sometimes we hold hands. Our small dog now looks expectantly at her leash and back to us each evening in anticipation of our 2-mile stroll. We talk to neighbors who are eager to see someone besides their housemates, encounter other dog walkers and avoid being run over by children on their bikes. Mostly, it’s just a time of normalcy. Each of us crave that. Fresh air, being outside, seeing the grass emerge from the snow and now nearly two months into it, the flowers beginning to bloom. “It’s magical” says even my 20-year old.
Our family looks forward to “PE class” each evening. We rush each other to find the gaps in the rain or snow or to go before the sun sets. We look forward to seeing the same folks each walk even if we didn’t know them before. We notice new bulbs blooming, construction projects and kiddos that are becoming daredevils riding their bikes over newly built, precarious front-yard jumps. The predictability of the walk is calming. It feels normal. I did not know how much we each would look forward to that calm, that predictability. Even when each day is uncertain, we can create routines that will provide us with what we need. It may become normal. And maybe it will surprise us with the gifts it brings along with it.
It might even be magical.
