In the past few months of isolation brought on by the pandemic, I’ve had a lot of time to think and reminisce.
I grew up attending Sunday school every week, and vacation Bible school in the summertime. Those are some of my happiest memories — making a piggy bank out of an empty bleach bottle, creating a Bible story on a felt board, singing catchy songs. I’ve thought a lot about those memories, and why they mean so much.
It’s the simplicity, the meaning, the happiness, the lessons not only in religion but also in kindness and caring — that’s why it stands out.
When one reaches adulthood, life goes by at a frenetic pace. Reminders abound to “take time to smell the roses” and “remember what’s important.” I see those words on plaques at a craft store, and I smile and think how charming it is. Yet I haven’t always followed that advice.
As a parent, one thinks of making the best life for one’s children.
What is that best life, really? Is it working all the time to buy the child the latest and greatest video game, computer, cellphone, or brand named clothing? Is it coming home at the end of the work day too tired to do anything but watch some mindless television and go to bed?
This pandemic, and the resulting isolation, have interrupted so many things. The hardship it has caused is unknowable in the grand scheme of things — sickness, death, financial ruin.
At the same time, it’s caused some unanticipated consequences. For one, it’s made me realize the importance of being there for one another, of the importance of spending time with — instead of just money on — one’s children.
In the past five months, I have spent more time with my daughter than I probably had in a few years. That time spent talking, laughing, being silly, painting pictures on dollar store canvases, making bracelets, cooking, baking — that’s something I hadn’t made time to do in years.
And I’ve taken time to listen. It’s important, perhaps now more than ever, to listen to one another, to talk about one’s fears and to face them together with loved ones.
The world is a confusing place. No one knows how long this virus will have us in its grip. We have to find a way, in our own lives, to make this lemon into lemonade.
I’ve had sleepless nights, filled with worry about my daughter’s medical condition and how to ensure her safety. I’ve had days where it’s tough to get out of bed and face the world as it is, with an underlying fear gripping so many people.
I’ve spent a lot of time asking my late father questions. He’s been gone close to 20 years now. I think because it’s easier for me to picture his face, it’s to him I direct my questions and requests for life advice.
And when I think about how he would respond, it isn’t words that come to mind. It’s a photo I have of him and my daughter, when she was 3. My parents had brought a child-size shopping cart for their grandkids. My dad bought pretend groceries, and in this photo, is helping my daughter fill the cart.
I have another photo of a little baby pool on my parents’ front porch, with my daughter happily splashing water onto my mother and everything nearby.
Simple pleasures.
That’s the advice I feel from my father, and hear from my mother. Take time to enjoy the simple pleasures, because you’ll find it’s in those moments that life is being lived.
(Marcie Schellhammer is the Era’s assistant managing editor. She can be reached at marcie@bradfordera.com)
