I read the next pandemic-fueled headline as I sipped my coffee and felt a small jolt in my chest.
“Best Buy Joins Walmart, Target in Closing Stores Thanksgiving Day”
It wasn’t the caffeine from my third cup of Folgers. It was the startling realization that we’ve seen this novel coronavirus decimate our school year, our summer plans, and now it’s threatening our All-American Christmas. But that tingling I felt deep within wasn’t disappointment. It was excitement.
As much as I want this nightmare to end, I don’t want everything to go back to normal. A big part of me hopes a new normal will prevail once it is safe to move forward.
The burned-out, over-scheduled part of me.
The part of me that longs for simpler times.
The part of me that starts planning in July for the overboard Christmas that’s required to give my family all the magic and none of its true meaning.
I haven’t missed the pressure to plan, attend, and participate in all the things. I haven’t missed the feeling that I’m not doing enough to give my kids a special childhood. Or trying to plan and cram festivals, farmers’ markets, the perfect family vacation, and all the kids’ activities into our precious time off.
My pre-pandemic problem was that we were never really “off.” We were always on the move and it left me exhausted from a life so filled with pressure, it robbed me of many simple pleasures.
The truth is, I’ve cherished our empty schedule this spring and summer. I’ve had more time thriving in our family bubble than I ever dreamed possible. We took our kids fishing for the first time and hunted for frogs in the woods behind our house. We went on a zillion bike rides and sat down to every meal together.
My kids learned how to keep themselves busy. They’ve bonded in their boredom, something we’ve never slowed down long enough to experience. They’ve built forts, bike ramps, and a shaky zip-line to their plastic pool.
And while my kids learned to improvise and use their imaginations, my husband and I learned to parent with ours.
Did we ever think in our lifetime our kids’ generation would write a letter to a friend? Or visit Mars or a zoo on the other side of the world? Or spend an entire summer playing board games as a family and hide-n-seek with the neighbors?
As restrictions have lifted, I’ve enjoyed the small meaningful get-togethers with friends and family on our porches and patios.
I hope we return to simpler times where the small gatherings and the simple gestures are the ones that mean the most.
I hope social distancing sticks around until we learn what’s really important. Until we don’t want to rush back to our old normal but adopt this simpler new one.
When I see stores closing for Thanksgiving because of the pandemic, I see hope for the holidays. A new normal. I see families spending more time together rather than rushing off in hoards to fight elbow to elbow for deals in crowded stores. I see my own family hunkered down, full from a salty turkey dinner and side of lasagna while we cheer for the Detroit Lions. Maybe THIS is their year?!
Maybe this is everyone’s year.
If things are slowing down for Thanksgiving, then I believe there’s hope Christmas will be a little less Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree and a lot more Silent Night.
We’ve had a simpler summer and it’s been magic. I hope we have a simpler winter too.
