SUBURBAN SUPERDAD
Sorry, too busy Use this phrase with caution, especially when it comes to parental visits
T
his is it, people. The moment you’ve been rehearsing in your mind for more than a year has finally arrived.
It’s summer. And, by that, I don’t just mean “summer.” We’re talking “The Summer,” the one in which everything goes back to normal, or at least as close as we can get. Baseball stadiums and beaches will be full again (and not just in Florida). Outdoor concerts will bump. Festivals will fiesta, and parades will march. Fireworks will light up the night sky once more. Many of us will undoubtedly hit the road, heading out on those longdelayed family vacations — or non-family getaways, as your situation and needs warrant. No judgment here. Life as we knew it will return, though, admittedly with a few alterations. And to my thinking, it wouldn’t be so bad if some of those alterations stuck with us a bit longer. For instance, even with restaurants returning to full capacity, would it be so bad to keep just a bit of space between the tables? Dining is much more enjoyable without a side of your neighbor’s elbow, or without risking your conversation being drowned out by a loud talker situated 2 feet to your left. And I’m sure I’m not the only one who would be just fine with cities continuing to convert downtown streets into alfresco food fairs — at least on weekends, if not all summer long. But another change that should linger? A bit more judicious use of the phrase: “Sorry, too busy.”
38
For the past year, most of us haven’t even had to consider how to respond to invitations to attend events here and there, those occasions that once dotted our calendars: weddings, birthday parties, cookouts, graduations and other sundry gatherings of family and friends. In the past year, the busyness has come all on its own, in its own peculiar way. Many of us who fancied ourselves Masters of Time and Balancers of Schedules found ourselves, amid the scramble to make sense of the new reality, trying desperately to decipher how it is the hours of the day still managed to run away from us, like bathwater down the drain, no matter how incessantly we tried to plug the gap. Now, reemerging into the old pace may feel like merging onto the interstate from a cul-de-sac. It’s jarring. Others will undoubtedly embrace it, as we exult in the rush of the helter-skelter, trying to make up for lost time. But as the world reopens, may I recommend we again consider those big reasons we gave for locking down — or at least taking precautions — in the first place? Namely, for the purposes of this missive, allow me to put in a word for dear old mom and dad. You know, those people so many of you said you were trying to protect by staying home? Sure, many of us have, shall we say, complicated relationships with our folks. But if you’ve spent the past year terrified at the thought of passing on a deadly respiratory disease to ol’ ma and pa, this is it: the moment you’ve said you’ve wanted, to go back and see them.
And, as an aging dad, contemplating the moment when my young ones are no longer so young themselves and head out on their own, I can tell you they are most likely also looking forward to the moment you again knock on their door — and not just on the greeting card holidays in May and June that guilt us into putting up with them for a few hours. So, after the initial post-pandemic obligatory visit, just before the coming blizzard of long-delayed social functions, sporting events, concerts and more, can we resolve to be a bit more sparing with the phrase, “Sorry, too busy,” when our parents just want to see us a few more times before they pass? Because, if we emerge from a pandemic and just return to normal, still trusting in the illusion of the promise of tomorrow, we — and our parents — may be left wondering: Were we actually even paying attention?
Jonathan Bilyk writes about the triumphs and travails of being a modernday dad who legitimately enjoys time with his family, while tolerating a dog that seems to adore him. He also doesn’t really like the moniker “Superdad” because it makes it sound like he wants to wear his undergarments on the outside of his pants. (Also, the cape remains on back order.)
FAMILY IN FOCUS JUNE 2021
KCMAG_DUMMY June.indd 38
5/19/21 11:46 AM
