First Person

THE PANDEMIC SHUFFLE, 20/20

By Kim Newett

I know the exact day I realized the virus was going to change everything. I just didn’t understand how thorough it would be. I was driving home from my second of back to back tradeshows in New York and Vegas, catching up with news podcasts as I hightailed it through the desert. It was March 11th.

By March 13th, I had absorbed crazy headlines that questioned whether or not state and national borders were going to be shut, toilet paper shortages had begun (how did we never have a wine shortage?), universities were shutting down, cruise lines were being denied from docking at scheduled stops. With one daughter in college and the other having just begun a third contract with on a cruise ship, our life was changing by the hour.

By March 15th, my youngest had skipped out on Spring Break plans and was home for what we thought was going to be four weeks, and my oldest’s cruise contract had been suspended. She would fly home two weeks later, on a last-minute ticket from Miami to LAX that cost $18.

When April began, school was online, summer internships were cancelled, cruise itineraries pushed to at least August. Conversations with my parents at that time consisted of them desperately pushing me to find a silver lining. I refused,calling it what it was: UNFAIR. However, our depression became boring so we moved on – my oldest started creating art, my youngest began baking.We played games and found comfort in trashy Hulu series. Finals came and went, my youngest started a virtual job. My oldest’s cruise suspensions continued to extend.

Somehow the silver lining we had tried to keep at bay pushed its way through. We got to spend five unexpected months with our adult children. We shared news articles, discussed social justice, argued politics, created family jokes. We screened in our back porch and enjoyed weekend movies outside. My husband bought a pasta maker – and we made pasta! My kids learned to cook which was something I was always remiss at not spending more time on when they were in high school. We taught the dog to play hide-n go-seek and to high five. They weren’t all good days. Honestly, some days were rough. Really rough, with moods that flared and uncertainty that got the best of each one of us. But we unwittingly took this time to get to know each other in this surreal setting. Hopefully, this foundation of time spent together during a pandemic when we relied on each others’ strengths, humor, and character will carry forward.

Recently my daughter’s university called it – fall semester will be online. Her senior year was supposed to commence with a trip to the east coast to celebrate her 21st birthday and to conclude with a large family gathering to celebrate her graduation. There will be no trip for her 21st. She will celebrate it with a few of her tribe and that is enough for her right now. I have no idea if travel in May for graduation will make sense for anyone, but mostly for my elder parents who so want to be there for her. Whether we will get to dress in school colors and take cap and gown pictures in front of the school sign is questionable. Yet, she will graduate from college in nine months and we will be so proud, whether or not there are grandiose festivities.

My oldest, upon receiving notice that cruise travel would be suspended through at least the end of the year, decided it was time to choose a different path and stop living a suspended life. She took a friend up on a room with COVID-reduced rent, packed up 150 pounds of life and boarded a plane for New York where she will spend at least a year as a Manhattanite. Her plans are uncertain, but really, whose aren’t right now? She has a few friends there, a script she is working on, a degree to work in film when film starts happening again, and experience as a nanny to fall back on if need be. While I am not sure what this will look like, I am certain she will be fine.

Perhaps that is the real gift from this virus, learning to master the art of the pivot. While our kids have had wildly profound blows during the last five months, their resilience has grown in abundance. It has been made permanently clear that sometimes things being “ok” is enough. That change is scary but doable. That solitude and presence creates clarity.

Granting one’s self and our children grace amid disappointment while continuing to push forward in possibly unplanned directions will be the lesson we cherish well past this pandemic and the year we call 20/20.

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