The pandemic pivot.
I was interviewing a life and career coach this week for an article and we got to talking about pandemic things – as you do nowadays – and in particular, how folks seem to be making big changes in their lives. I told her about how it’s happening in my own family, with one of my kids getting a new job and moving back into the city, and another kid leaving NYC to move to Raleigh, NC. Even a really close friend quickly sold her home here in town and is high tailing up to her place in Vermont for a while.
Five months ago, none of those big moves was in the works. My son was ensconced at a job in the start up/travel sector, daughter sharing an apartment in Manhattan and friend and husband thinking this would be their last summer in their home before putting it on the market in 2021. But then, the travel industry blew up, my daughter’s job remains remote for the foreseeable future and the housing market around here went nuts, with folks clamoring for more space and when my friends lightly tested the real estate waters, their home was quickly snatched up.
The coach said that she, too, was seeing people begin to course correct during the pandemic, making changes they’d only been thinking about before everything got shut down.
My own changes have been pretty small so far, with me mostly executing things I’d been thinking about for far too long. I put up a pretty new wooden fence to replace a crumbling stockade situation that was sagging under about 30 years of ivy that was listing towards my patio. My daughter and I built a raised garden bed and planted a couple of things and it has brought all of us so much joy over the last few months. Who knew just one cucumber plant could generate such a bizarre amount of produce?
We went to Costco last week and piled up right by the entrance were boxes of commercial grade string lights, which we took as a sign to finally install festive lighting across the patio. A couple of months ago, I was hot to get into bird watching and bought one of those feeders you can attach to a window, envisioning myself sitting at my desk and looking up to find finches and cardinals feasting on the other side of the glass. Then someone mentioned what a mess it would make, the seeds and inevitable poop, which quickly burst my bubble and I packed up the seed that had already arrived and shipped it all back to Amazon. Instead, I bought some cheap hummingbird feeders, which requires a bright red sugary liquid that won’t make a mess of my yard and attract other critters.
I also finally got around to replacing an air conditioning unit that was mostly blowing hot air for the last few summers and now it’s heaven to walk into that once stuffy room and feel the chill in the air. Another thing I’d been needing to do forever is put up blinds in my office, to keep the sun from beating through the windows all afternoon and sending me off to find another space to work.
But now that two of the kids are moving out of our quarantine bubble, I am hoping I will be able to start making some bigger life changes as well. It seems like I’ve been in a holding pattern over the last five months, waiting to see what was going to happen while reverting to life with a full house to manage.
I’ve been reminded during the pandemic of how much work it is, running a house full of people – even fully-functioning adults. I’ve been lucky to have been really busy with work throughout, but I easily could have spent all my time, especially in the beginning, being the full-time mom. Cooking and cleaning, not to mention managing all sorts of personalities, is a lot of work.
Like many parents, I have been both blessed and maddened by sheltering in place with adult children. Although it makes me absolutely crazy when, say, my older son cannot put his blue coffee cup in the dishwasher or my older daughter leaves food debris all over the sink when she rinses off a plate or a bowl, I think I’m really going to miss them when they move on. It’s going to feel a little less like living in a (very active) dorm for the last five months.
Yesterday, my older girl and I were sitting on the back deck working at the table, when she hissed, “Mom!” and pointed and I saw a bright green hummingbird just floating nearby, almost as if it was checking us out, before it zipped over to one of the new feeders and then disappeared.
I keep waiting for it to come back. In fact, I’m sitting outside right now, looking at the cucumber plant climbing out of the bed and over out deck railing, its tendrils looking for something to latch onto while little baby cucumbers keep growing along its vine. I can see the purple flowers of the lace cap hydrangea bushes given to us by the family whose daughter was the recipient of my daughter's kidney in June. We jokingly call the two bushes by the two girls' names and I water them most mornings to make sure they're happy and strong in their new space, much like their real-life counterparts. Cicadas are buzzing and twirping and reminding me that summer is nearing its end and with that will bring another chapter in the pandemic saga.
The quarantine has brought so many weird stages – puzzling and cooking, weekly happy hour family meetings, crying and shouting, lots of laughs, a crazy organ donation thrown in the middle of NYC pandemic and protests, so many dinners sitting down to eat together. I've acquired a new coffee maker, made room for an insane number of houseplants rescued from abandoned apartments and rejoined Costco to accommodate our sheltering place
Next week we head south in a car that is sure to be stuffed to the gills with what looks like a lot of bedding from Target to get our girl settled in her new place. It will be sad but she will be happy and I'll head back to a much more quiet house.
And if you need me you can find me out back, sitting at the table with my laptop and looking for hummingbirds, waiting to see what happens next.