I’ve had this post sitting in draft mode for awhile because I kept meaning to get back to it but now we’re in quarantine and now there’s ALL THE FREE TIME. SO MUCH EMPTY TIME!  I say that jokingly because in reality, it doesn’t feel like that much free time. Somehow the hours of the days get filled with homework, cooking, taking walks. And for the most part I feel less of the shock and fear of that first week when suddenly everything was spinning out of control.

But much like the grief I experienced with the loss of my Mom, this type of grief also comes in waves. Loss is loss. As I flipped through these photos of our lives pre-coronavirus, there’s such a stark contrast. Eating out at restaurants, taking swimming lessons, hanging out with dear friends. I grieve the loss of our blithely ignorant lives.  And I’m also grieving the loss of our trip to France. It isn’t officially canceled yet but I’m trying to prepare myself for what seems to be inevitable.

Guys, I just hate it. I know it’s not the loss of a loved one or a job or anything truly horrific. But it’s the loss of a dream, the death of a vision. I know from past experience that this, too, shall pass and that we will look back on this time as a priceless moment in history where we learned greater lessons than we ever thought possible.  But I grieve, nonetheless: for my sixth grader who doesn’t get to see his friends or finish up the track season he was so enjoying. For my preschooler who was getting so much help through the school’s special services and OT.  For the potential loss of work for both Simon and I. For my Dad who feels locked down away from family because of his high risk in contracting the virus.

I find joy despite the grief in small ways – crafting with Archer and his delightful five-year-old self. Sitting with Jude while he does his homeschool work. Enjoying being outdoors in such a great time of year for Oklahoma. We will get through this. We can do hard things.

WINTER BREAK IN CARLTON LANDING

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