Day 134 in 2020 (isolation days)

We live in a small, tightly-knit school system. Calvin met his best friend, a backyard neighbor, during the summer. When school started in the fall we were thrilled that the bus stop was just outside of our house. Did it make sense? No! We lived on a cul-de-sac of five houses, four of which were owned by elderly couples, and the fifth, ours, was owned by a family of homeschoolers. An apt place to land the bus stop, right? But every morning Calvin rose early, eager to meet his new friend at the bus stop the hang out before she boarded and went off to school and he ran on home. I didn't think twice about the situation until his friend's father, our neighbor and friend in his own right, mentioned in passing that he'd had to help the bus driver understand that Calvin was not supposed to get on the bus with all the other kids. Oops.

Fast forward a few years to when Calvin, who had become a regular visitor to the stop, finally stepped foot on board and to come home in the afternoons. That was two years ago, and the bus driver, the same dedicated, devoted, loving man who had known him as a visitor for all those five years, was certainly surprised. That is the joy and connectedness of our small community.

When the state went on lock-down, the bus drivers stopped seeing all their kids the same as all the teachers, and the sadness in the district has been palpable. Mostly palpable on facebook. Then yesterday we got a message from our bus driver that he had to drive the bus for maintenance purposes, so he intended to drive his usual route twice and that he hoped his usual riders would come out to say hi. I can tell you, when we stepped out the corner we could see families up and down the street waiting for him in their yards. It was a ringing endorsement, and a demonstration of the level of community that brought, and keeps, us here.

Day 76 in 2020

In times of trouble...remind oneself of all there is to be thankful for. We are all home, Jon can continue working from here, and modern technology allows him to continue all aspects of his job, including teaching, from here, where we are safe and where we are helping others be safe, for the foreseeable future.

That being said...We. Are. All. Home. Eek.

Health professionals recommend maintaining some semblance of routine in the face of hardship, and we struggled a little to do that today. Sleeping in was too enticing, and without external time pressures, everything we did seemed to get later and later in the day compared to our usual. I've actually made out a schedule to see if we can get back on track tomorrow, but there is at least one thing we did right today. We enjoyed ourselves. That extra time we took for everything was enjoyed. And I got back something I've been missing for years—our full at-home homeschool day. 

Something else we did right today? We discovered our community. It wasn't long after the schools closed that neighbors invited us to join a facebook group aimed at connecting those with needs with those who could help. And even beyond needs, the group has risen to the challenge of connecting people while maintaining careful social distance, from community chats, to puzzle and game exchanges in boxes at the end of people's driveways, to happy birthday messages sent to kids now isolated at home, it is truly warming to see how we help each other, both physically and emotionally.

And that kind of assistance isn't limited to local community, either. Our homeschooling community has reached out with resources, suggestions, and support for parents who are newly finding themselves in shoes we've filled for years. And so many organizations once dependent on crowds are now turning to social media to fill the hole left by closed classrooms. Today Calvin and I tuned into an art lesson provided via facebook live, where we learned not only how to draw faces, but also how to learn along with thousands of people all across the country, not to mention some of our own friends right here in town. 

Distance learning, distance friendship, these are the key words (and lessons) of 2020 so far.

Day 72 in 2020

How quickly things change. Last night when I returned from my shopping trip there was a message waiting from our schools telling us to be prepared for an important announcement the following morning. This morning we received the message that all extra-curricular activities had been cancelled for at least the next three weeks. This was disappointing to Calvin, who was looking forward to an upcoming band concert, but in the same message they assured us that school would remain open for the time-being as remote school was too challenging an option for our rural areas. 

This evening, not twelve hours later, we received the message that school would be entirely closed for the next three weeks. On the heals of that message Calvin's other events cancelled one by one, first his dance competition, then his choir concerts, then choir itself, then dance itself. It is a sobering moment when you realize that the situation is making history, that you are part of making that history whether you want to be or not. 

There are bright spots in the storm. Not an hour after the school closing message came in, as we were all feeling shaken and unsteady, the neighbors texted to invite us over for drinks, dinner, and shennanigans. We are so very fortunate to live where we do, amongst the people that we do, and spending the evening with this cohort set us a little more at ease, even if it's the last time we are able to congregate, as I fear it will be for some time. Still, we are all in it together.

Photo 296/365

Literature vs. Traffic on campus at the University of Michigan

Photo 148/365

Small town Memorial Day parade