In spite of the oppressive southern heat of my adopted home state of Maryland, summer became my favorite time of year after I had kids.  My children’s excitement over delicious, carefree summer days free from the rigors of endless sports practices, school events, music lessons and homework was contagious.  

During the summer months our household’s cheery mood was interrupted only by noticing the sale at Target on school supplies that always started much too early in July.  But that reminder of the impending school year did not dampen our spirits for long.  There was always a cool summer camp, an exciting vacation, a huge gathering of friends and family or a new adventure on the horizon.  Our house was just a pit stop between fun destinations and the notion of going back to school was a thought best left pushed to the back of our minds. 

Until this summer.

Summer 2020 was not greeted with the normal fanfare and excitement of end-of-school parties, dance recitals, music concerts and graduation celebrations.  My kids did not take their customary giant exhale on the last day of school when their backpacks could finally be thrown into a remote corner of the house not to be touched again for several weeks.    

Summer 2020 began with a whimper. Virtual education and distance learning had entered our lives in March. The rest of the school year was a blur of disappointment, apprehension, fear, panic and confusion.  Then school unceremoniously ended and summer arrived.

Summer 2020 did not feel delicious or carefree.  The same disappointment, apprehension, fear, panic and confusion that had dogged us since March followed us into June.  Summer 2020 would not and could not take place as planned.  My family, like the rest of the world, was in unchartered territory.  We were navigating life through a fog of uncertainty, stress and worry.

And as the summer wore on, it became clear that the fog had taken up residence throughout the world and there was precious little I could do to change it.

Then I decided to pivot.

I knew I could not change how the pandemic had impacted the world, but I could change my family’s response to it.  So I declared that we would now learn to be grateful for overlooked pleasures.  I announced that over dinner one night and got only blank stares. But it was too late, I was already on a roll.  

First of all, we are alive and healthy.  Simply being alive is absolutely an overlooked pleasure.  

Our long-awaited family reunion that was scheduled to take place in Orlando in July, was canceled. At least we have Zoom, FaceTime, group texts and conference calls to stay connected across the miles.  And now we finally have spare time to use that technology.  

Without our normal activities, my family also had extra time to serve in our community. There is nothing like packing 1100 boxes of food with cans of sliced carrots and SpaghettiO’s at a local food bank to make you appreciate being able to walk into a supermarket at anytime and buy precisely what you would like to eat.  

We also learned to appreciate our home in a new way in summer 2020.  In previous summers, home was just a pit stop – wake up, leave, come back, sleep, repeat.  In summer 2020, home was the destination.  We don’t have a mansion with a pool and a fancy, stone fire pit in our backyard.  But our cat’s crazy antics are pretty entertaining and Walmart sells portable fire pits that we used to make the best s’mores ever.

Lastly, for the first time ever, my children miss school. They WANT to go back to school. They are heartbroken that distance learning will continue this fall.  Seeing the shelves at Target stocked with school supplies brings joy, not dread.  Those shelves make us believe that the world will one day turn right-side up again.  We just don’t know when.