Dolly Parton, a Long Ago Trip, and a recap

You know there’s a picture going around; I’ve seen it multiple times in my feeds and had it texted to me by a friend. The picture is Dolly Parton giving you a list of things you can do while Social Distancing with a bullet pointed list... but the list is actually the words to "9 to 5". 

Every time I see it, I immediately start to hum that beginning "dun, dun, dun" portion of the song. I start singing often in my head, occasionally out loud (sorry for that), and I realize Dolly Parton is so very very right.

Even in this season, even in 2020. 

March was disruptive to the world, but at least here, here in my protective bubble of family, it didn't feel the way 2020 feels now. It felt a little bit like a break. It felt like a respite, a deep breath, a chance to yawn and stretch and to try to come to life. 

We left our Oklahoma City trip a night early, and at the time, I couldn’t really have told you why. It was Spring Break, and we just wanted to be home to enjoy more of it or to be home to pack and deal in person with our house selling drama. Plus, how much additional fun could be had by leaving the following morning instead of just schlepping the drive back that night. (I mean the house was a slightly sketch vacation rental anyways, and the two gentlemen arguing at the bus stop in front of the home the night before really unsettled Sam). 

We packed the car in what is apparently my signature departure style: decide to leave, pack everything haphazardly like the place is on fire, and be on the road in 30 minutes or less. I am nothing if not consistent in that fact. So it was Tuesday, March, 10th, late-ish, but we were home. 

The next day, Wednesday, March 11th changed my world, really everyone in America’s world. 

We were still living in our 1400 square foot house. (I still like to call her the 1980s “dream boat” house because it was such a quintessential eighties house. Bo’s mirrored wall remained up the entire five years we lived there despite my adamant requirement that it be gone right away when we bought the place.) 

I can recall lying in our bed, and Sam had the TV on. He had been telling me how a player for a team had tested positive for some really contagious bug - little did I know then that the word would consume so much of my life for the next few hundred odd days, and as we were watching the end of the Mavericks game… the whole league was suspended. 

The next series of cancellations and suspensions was a blur, but it seemed impossible, highly unlikely at least that it would impact us. Sports Leagues were one thing, but us, actually being impacted? I doubted it. 

I was running in the rain when our school district made the announcement. I read it on the screen of my FitBit. Sam texted, “two more weeks of spring break.” 

It felt surreal. 

I can still tell you where I was at on that run. In front of the house that just had new trees put in, on the bendy, curved part of the road. I imagine that moment will be forever cemented into my brain. The moment that coronavirus actually had any kind of impact on my life, and at the time, I was jubilant. It felt like a snow day. When you find out you get to sleep in… turns out it was only the beginning of a series of something that felt more like groundhog day than a snow day. 

We took the time, and we packed our house. We prepared to move, and I began to grow more and more apprehensive that the closing would fall apart - like they were going to lock us in our homes and close the world completely down. It got close, but lenders were still working and we were able to close on time and according to plan. I think by that point we had an extension on the never-ending-spring-break, but it was no longer a spring break and can I just say working from home in the middle of a move and a pandemic when no one has any idea what’s going on is stressful and chaotic. (Also, it’s kind of fun, and it is definitely a chapter in my life I will no doubt look back on fondly.) 

It became apparent with each passing day that normal wouldn’t be normal for the rest of the school year. 

 Then, we actually got to move... 

We had time. We had time to unpack. Time to put things away. Time to settle in to our new space. It was the strangest kind of thing. 

In April, we balanced all the things. "Mommy School" for the kids, working from home, slow internet connections, a drive through birthday party... I baked Moose his 7th birthday cake. It was funfetti, and it wasn't perfect, but there was no judgement and no need to pay for a bakery cake. I hand knitted a blanket, and I bought 14' x 16' an above ground pool. We did Science experiments. We built forts. We enjoyed the pace of our life. 

In May, we hiked. We swam. We had family movie nights. We inched towards summer a little at a time and day by day. I ran and I ran and I ran so many miles. 

In June, we added friends to our bubble. We camped. We swam. We made the forever kind of memories. We deepened those forever friendships.  

In July, I went back to work, and the world shifted again. 

Now, it's August, and I am not quite ready to reflect on the journey I have had since July. I still feel like I am in the middle of it. I feel like the story is still unfolding. It's not quite ready to be processed, to be filtered through the eyes of hindsight with wisdom and knowledge of the future. 

Soon, I will sit down and recall what those first July days were like - when the information was coming in bits and spurts like a broken sprinkler head -nothing, then a million things all at once, and information was like ice skating without ice skates. Until then, I am going to enjoy these last remnants of summer afternoons and weekends. The ones that smell like sunscreen and popsicles. The ones that feel like a deep breath in the midst of chaos. 

Enjoy the sunshine friends, soon the sun will set earlier and earlier and the smell of that first fall day will set in. Soak up the dog days while we can.