Our children are grown, living in their own apartments about a half hour from us.
I miss them so much. All the time. But especially now, in quarantine, when all I get is phone calls and the occassional Zoom. No hugs, as they are both in essential occupations.
Today we packed Easter baskets and Easter dinner and delivered them. Texting “We’re here,” to each child as we pulled up, grinning and waving as we (from a safe distance) handed off Tupperwares of pork and roasted potatoes and carrots and chocolate chip cookies (a rare treat in times of flour and butter and egg shortage), not to mention the Easter baskets with chocolates and jelly beans.
The we headed home to our dining room, already set with candles and crystal. And dialed in to Zoom.
It’s not the same. But it’s good. A small sacrifice for a greater good. Maybe with this absence, we can spend Mother’s Day together. Or Memorial Day. Or Flag Day. I don’t care.
Instead of seeing this as a loss, I’m choosing to see it as a sign of great love. I love these people so much that I’m willing to not be in their presence for some still unknown period of time so that we can all remain healthy and be together soon. It would be selfish of me to break quarantine for a hug, when I can have dozens in a few weeks (months?).
Happy Easter to you and yours. I hope you’re well and that you are able to see the great love that is all around you as strangers all over the world Zoom their Easter dinners so that you can have your hugs later.