An Open Letter to my Children, During a Worldwide Pandemic

 An Open Letter to my Children, during a Worldwide Pandemic:

There was once a time, around a decade or and little bit more ago, that I thought we had the whole world in front of us.  A beautiful, enriching life to live.  I wanted to show you everything I knew, and learn even more about this crazy life, right alongside you.  I still want that.  

Around a year and a half ago, it seemed like the world stopped.  We thought it would be only for a month or so, but it turned into, well, a couple of years.  A couple of years in my mid-30’s wasn’t a big deal to me, but it was a big deal for you guys, even if you didn’t know it.  It was during probably the most formativeyears of your childhood.

I always thought of the nostalgic memories I had in public school- and not like the expected stuff, but the little things.  Like the smell of a freshly waxed gym floor, the joy of opening a brand new notebook and box of crayons, and the sound of other kids walking through the hallway, excited and eager to enjoy the next thing that was coming at school.  The running, climbing and peer squabbles that occurred during outdoor recess.  The aroma of hot lunch cooking in the school kitchen, whether we liked it or not.  The anticipation of Halloween costumes with friends, drawing on our desks when we got bored in class, eating cheetos and balogna on white bread for sandwiches at lunch because, why not?  And even the little posters on the wall of the cafeteria that said “Drink Milk”, and the overhead projector during classroom lessons that showed us how to carry 10’s and master long division.  

How about the 5th grade gym show?  How about that Christmas craft party?  And school concerts?  Girl Scouts.  Fall soccer games.  The crack of a bat meant the first sign of Spring.  Riding bikes because we liked it, and could get to places faster.  Sledding down questionable hills in the winter and eating snow because we were kinda thirsty from climbing those hills. Causing the metal posts on swing sets to lift out of the ground because we were swinging too high, and the sharp sound of the whistle when we had to go back inside.  

Those things just aren’t happening for you, not compared to how they happened for me.  

Back in the 90’s, there were parades, and community gatherings, and family get-togethers on holidays.  We truly enjoyed the physical company of each other.  We didn’t have to worry about getting sick, or possibly hurting anyone we loved just from our presence.  We just existed, as people, who enjoyed each other’s company.  I truly thought, unconsciously I guess, that you would experience the same thing.  

I was wrong.  

When I was 12 I used to ride my bike down to the local swimming hole and enjoy hours with my 7th grade friends- talking, swimming, taking risks.  I loved sitting in trees and reading novels that had the sweet smell of book-binding glue, and I also loved folded up football letters from friends, and folded paper fortunes. Now, 7th grade is virtual calls, and video games, and cancelled plans.  It is being in school on one day, and being at home alone for the next.  

When I was in 4th grade I loved everything, but two things specifically: soccer, and chorus.  Neither of those things can successfully happen right now.  Rather, there are regular phone calls with friends, virtual class calls, no school, and a mandate to stay within the parameters of home.  

When we’re kids, we just take what is coming to us.  You guys are fine.  It is me who is grieving, as your mother.  

There is so much about my childhood I’m gonna miss on behalf of the both of you.  And at the same time, it isn’t about me, is it?  You guys are totally fine and adjusted to the times you’re living in.  And me and your dad, we just have to get over it.  

Perhaps now, memories may consist of the smell of home-cooked meals, adventures in the yard, that “bell signal” at the beginning of a class call, the dog barking. The phone ringing, endless card games, television series on constant replay, graphic novels, strange TikTok tunes that play over and over again, long conversations at the dinner table each night, and so much more that goes on within these walls of what we call home.  

Two and half decades ago is history, things were much different.  And it’s our story of growing up.  And now in 2021, this is your story.  It’s different, for sure.  In the 90’s the 1970’s marked 2 decades preceding, and we were told by our parents that things were so much different back then. 

We got sick of hearing it.  

Reality?  Things are also different now.  And really, why wouldn’t they be? 

As parents, we are currently grieving a childhood experience that our children know nothing about.  Just as our parents grieved the same thing.  It really is no different from anything before us.  

I truly believe it is harder for us than it is for the kids. Let’s quit our crying, it’s a just sign of the times!  All the kids are alright!

My beloved children- This is it!  You will have a story to tell, growing up during a worldwide pandemic.  And it’s a great, layered, exciting story.  

Love,

Me