A Good Moment During Covid

We have escaped—my sister’s beautiful home . .. 

I feel so grateful . .. and also, you can totally see my crooked nose (darn swing).

It’s so easy to count the ways life right now is hard.  Right?  I think we are all on this crazy roller coaster—good days, ok days, and then just plane old blah days.  I had a few blah days for the past weeks watching my kids adjust to the idea that summer wasn’t going to be the summer we had planned and yet more disappointments were ahead.

On Monday when Finnegan was officially done with all school work, we found him at 8:15am on the couch moaning.  

“What’s going on?”we asked.

“It’s 8:15am,” he yelled out, his voice breaking twice as only a thirteen year old boy can, “and I’m BOARED to death!!”

I looked at John and he looked at me and we both felt this moment of panic.  It was May 17 for heavens sake, how were we going to do a whole summer?  And maybe a fall too?

Right then and there I wanted to go back to bed and wake up in two years when this is all over.  As my friend Nanci said this morning, “I’m going into summer on a completely empty tank, totally out of ideas and energy.”  Yes.  Exactly.  Like running on fumes here.

We had planned to drive up and spend the weekend with my sister and beloved auntie—even though they have a shelter in place order still in effect, we thought we’d just shelter with them.  But on Tuesday morning, right before we started packing, my sister called and said, “Don’t come yet, I’m still too worried you’ll get sick!  And I’d never forgive myself.”

So of course, we didn’t want to worry her and I told the kids we were staying home.  

And  . . . would they help us spread mulch not only all over our half acre yard, but our neighbors too.  Our two little guys put on muck boots and tevas and worked for six hours straight, literally getting sunburned and sore muscles and did not complain.  My arms felt like they were going to fall off and I was so tired I wanted to cry, but our two cheery little people just laughed and ran around the yard jumping on the tramp admiring their handy work.

Little creepy limitless energy angels.  

But as Wednesday arrived and they realized that they truly weren’t going anywhere, the sadness set in.  I would find them on different couches or on their beds, just staring off into space.  I couldn’t get them to do anything.  My sister Doreen arrived to go for a hike and after hearing about their sadness, offered her house down in St George for the weekend.

I came back and told them and seriously, their joy illuminated the room.  About that time, I realized something horrible . . . we missed Piper’s drive by award Evening in Excellence at her middle school.  I have no idea what award she got (probably keeping up decent graces or something), but I had dismissed it because we were going to be gone.  I had planned on asking Celia (who is madly and beautifully working her way through a competitive and intense intro course to the design program she wants to get into) to pick it up.  But everything went south because we didn’t go . . . But I forgot.

I told Piper and honestly, her whole little body crumpled and sagged.  She had to leave the room to keep from crying.  Literally, I got the worst mother of the year award right then.  It wasn’t until I read the dumb email that I even remembered it was Wednesday.  Yep.  I’ve just lost track.

But right then, my son-in-law called and invited the four of us down to Lake Powell for two days of boating. 

This has been Piper’s dream for the past few years.  Dream.

So I ran down  and told her.  She beamed up at me and said Jake had already called her and told her all about it and that it was finally something this summer she could cross of her bucket list.

Saved by Jake.  

I have a feeling this is just one of the thousand ways Jake is going to save our butts.

So we are here in St. George and tomorrow we are heading down to Lake Powell.  I have no idea how it’s going to turn out, but to me this is a miracle.  This is just the bit of goodness and grace these two little semi-adults needed.

And in this time of lots of disappointments, I’m holding on to this bit of pure, beautiful karmic joy.