Mountains and Valleys

I've been thinking about those of you who have had your children quarantined with you over the past few months. There is a part of me that envies the cozy scene I envision: board games,  family dinners, and lots of time together. And there is another part of me that is relieved not to be in charge of keeping children (of any age) occupied and happy during a pandemic. I think no matter who you are and what your situation is, we can all agree that life during a pandemic is a challenge, and we are all playing the quarantine hands we've been dealt as well as we can.

Since we're still smack dab in the middle of COVID-19, we're also still in the midst of learning the lessons a pandemic has to offer about who we are, who we were, and who we want to become (both as individuals and as a country). However, I expect, when we look back years from now, we'll see that there were a lot of good things hiding underneath the hardship, sorrow, fear, and frustration of this time.

Once, many years ago when our kids were young, we went to the ocean for a week with our extended family. As I remember, it rained every day and many in our group got the stomach flu. But on our last full day, the sun came out and we ventured down to the ocean's edge where we found a family of dolphins jumping and playing--they were almost close enough to touch. Above them was a double rainbow. And that's what has stayed with me: that beautiful ending to a tough week.

So in the spirit of holding onto the good and trying to finish strong, here are some things I've been noticing:

1. I am taking life more slowly. I've been walking a lot and taking time to notice the bright, cheerful flowers everywhere and the green of the trees against the blue of the sky. I've been appreciating our quiet little village and the creek that runs through it. I've been reading more. I've been making things from scratch: sourdough bread, hamburger and hot dog buns, pita pockets, and pizza.

2. I've been appreciating the way people are stepping up: sharing their expertise and talent; offering information, advice and encouragement via social media; making and distributing masks; sharing recipes; dropping off eggs, produce, coffee beans, and garden plants; texting and calling to stay in touch; cheerfully crossing to the other side of the street to avoid getting too close; and hosting socially distanced porch visits and small backyard gatherings.

3. Although it's been a struggle, I've been learning to be more patient, to do without, to wait for things I wish for and want right now. I'm trying to be more grateful for what I have--and in the process, I'm realizing I have a lot.

4. While it feels odd to have your kids taking care of you instead of the other way around, I am thankful and touched by the ways our kids (our sons and daughter and our son- and daughters-in-law) have watched out for us over the past few months. They text, snap, and call more often (and talk longer). They Zoom and play online games with us on Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings and afternoons. They do our grocery shopping in between Instacart deliveries and pick ups (and don't say anything about the fact that we're still using Instacart instead of masking up and doing our own shopping). They pick up take-out food. They offer help and advice with technology issues and tree removal. They show interest (feign interest?) in my sourdough bread making adventures. They suggest TV shows and podcasts (along with instructions on how and where to find them). They worry when I'm not sleeping and offer solutions. They listen to our fears. They help us sift through information and give us perspective. They model resilience and courage. They cheer us up. They cheer us on.

There's a beautiful passage in the book Esperanza Rising by Pam Munoz Ryan: "[Abuelita] handed Esperanza the bundle of crocheting. 'Look at the zigzag of the blanket. Mountains and valleys. Right now you are in the bottom of the valley and your problems loom big around you. But soon, you will be at the top of a mountain again.'" When I teach this book, my students and I talk about how spending time in the valleys changes Esperanza and makes her a stronger, wiser, more compassionate person; we discuss how that is true for all of us. Although none of us enjoy the hard times in our lives, it's in the valleys that we do our growing.

We are all in the deep valley of COVID-19 right now, and the next mountain top is barely visible. Since we're stuck here for a while, I want to use the time as well as I can, so that when we're on the mountain top again, I am a little stronger, a little wiser, a lot more compassionate.