It’s strange, but sometimes I forget I’m in quarantine. The business and state of flow I find myself in just getting the day to day accomplished with my five children and getting our farm started consumes me as a welcome distraction. Although, we had classes we did both inside and outside of our home as a homeschool family, we would turn our focus inward for a time as necessary during various seasons, such as the birth of a new baby, or the death of a loved one, of course not quite to this extent.
I find I’m much more content and accepting of the current situation the less I interact with it. There’s a balance to staying informed and avoiding the unproductive nonsense thrown around in social media and poor journalism. I understand that for many, avoidance is not an option. Even for myself, I must recognize that some of this is healthy adaptation and some is a coping mechanism doomed to fail. This isn’t to say, I can effectively hide under a rock. There simply isn’t a rock big enough to block the effects of this virus out, but I need breaks from following the latest and greatest news for my own mental health.
I’m adapting. My family is adapting. But sometimes our yearning for human connection becomes exposed, such as my daughter’s birthday yesterday. My children have had anxieties surrounding these upcoming celebrations that, in the past, have involved dear friends and family.
I tried to find creative ways to make my little girl feel special and loved. I wanted her to know how grateful we are for her coming into our life. I got up early, I set the table with birthday cards, flowers, her baby book, and the tea pot. Her father made a grocery run to make pizza for dinner per her request. She was the first to come downstairs that morning, and I sang to her in the early quiet. I told her she got to pick what went in that teapot this morning and she chose hot cocoa. We made fresh peanut butter and added it to our homemade yogurt, another of her requests.
Although I put up a strong front, I mourned the loss of family and friends being present for this occasion. But love has a way of traveling beyond our physical being and we were to be shown how with distance, it would still find us.
My daughter received video calls from grandparents, where they sang to her, played with her, and asked her about her day. One friend went above and beyond what I would have expected and made the long drive out to our rural home with her family, got out of the car, dropped thoughtful handmade gifts in our mailbox, and sang to my little girl from a distance. There was a happy sadness to it. We were thrilled to see them, but both parties kept their distance. It was a moving scene. It made my daughter feel so loved and special. She was all smiles for the rest of the day, holding tight to the hand-sewn monster her eight-year-old friend had made her. They also gave her a tulip for each year, which we planted with love in her garden.
I was so touched how our family and dear friends made the efforts to send love in our direction. It truly is an unstoppable force. I’m forever grateful.
After the day’s events, my oldest daughter confided in me. She told me that when all of this started, she thought quarantine would be “fun.” She admitted that now, especially after the glimpse of her friends in physical form, the novelty has worn off, and she yearns for them. Me too, I told her.
Though we adapt and have a way of doing mental acrobatics to find joy in the day to day, we are social and tribal creatures. We were not designed to live in isolation. We are being put to the test. Yesterday was a mix of emotions for all of us and we learned that we can feel joy and sadness simultaneously. Through the hardships, we are seeing love able to triumph. We are finding blessings out of tragedy.
We must allow ourselves the reprieve of distraction from time to time, but remain open to the human experience of emotion. When it comes, welcome it as an unexpected visit from a friend, spend time feeling it, own it, then allow it to become part of you going forward.
To my special friend, thank you for loving my daughter as your own. You are a light in the dark.
Stay home. Stay safe. Love will prevail.