Lauren Denton
I have a confession to make. Usually when I sit down to write this column, I have a pretty good idea of what I intend to write about, whether it’s something I’ve been wrestling with or thinking about, something funny or interesting or surprisingly wise our kids said or did recently, or a story I think will bring you a measure of light or life. But today— on Day 7 of our COVID-19 quarantine, I have no idea what to write about.
I’m always aware of the fact that I’m writing my columns about a month and a half before you see it in print (or online), which means the words I write today will be read by all of you at the end of April or beginning of May. And the way the news has been changing daily — even hourly at times — I have no idea what the state of the union, if you will, will be when this comes out. Best case scenario, we’ll all be back at work, back in school, back to normal. Unfortunately, the range of possibilities for not-so-great scenarios feels endless. And if that’s where we land, I’d be willing to bet the last thing all of you would want to read about is more COVID-19.
And there lies the conundrum — to ignore the enormous elephant in the room seems disingenuous, and yet where I sit, here at the beginning of what’s probably going to be a long marathon, I’m already tired of it! I’m tired of the dire reports and warnings. Tired of the endless well-intentioned but exhausting ideas for how to teach kids from home, which really means I’m tired of the pressure I feel to teach my kids all they’re missing in school. I’m tired of cooking dinner every single night. I’m even tired of NOT going to the grocery store. (Never thought I’d say that.) And Lord have mercy, I’m tired of hearing about toilet paper.
So, in an effort to both acknowledge the strange times we’re living in and not further burden your shoulders (or mine), I give you a short list of ways I’ve been surprised by joy, goodness, humor or grace in this first week of our coronacation.
Impromptu throw-back dance party, courtesy of Lionel Richie and Phil Collins. (Extra points to my husband for his energetic drum solo during “In the Air Tonight.”) The occasional after-dinner dance party is not entirely uncommon at our house, but the one we had this week felt even better than usual, as it got all of us moving and laughing, despite the difficulties in transitioning from normal life to physical isolation.
We started making nature rainbows. On our walks around the neighborhood (and we took way more walks than usual), we found bits of nature in various colors, then came home and laid it all out in a rainbow. A sweet reminder that beauty is all around. (Thanks for the idea, Makenzi Tew!)
As we’ve been traipsing around the neighborhood, everyone’s been a whole lot chattier. Lots of waves and smiles and calls of “hello!” — from a safe distance, of course. It seems we’re all realizing just how important social connection is, even with neighbors we don’t know. With the news outlets cranking out an endless barrage of political divisiveness and ire, it feels much better to just turn everything off, go outside and see some friendly faces.
Never underestimate the power of a car ride with the windows down and the music turned up. I had to make a delivery to someone’s front porch one afternoon, and I practically had to force my kids to come with me. Everyone needed a change of scenery even though they didn’t want to admit it. I told them to get in the car, no shoes needed, and buckle up. With trudging feet and stooped shoulders, they obeyed. Five minutes later, Panic! At the Disco was blaring, and they were a ball of giggles in the backseat with fresh air blowing in the windows and whipping their hair. Shoulders lifted quickly.
I’ve never been more grateful for social media. These days it’s been a lifeline —for local news, ways to help neighbors and reminders to watch Mo Willems’ Lunchtime Doodles. Additionally all the ways to “see” friends and family — FaceTime, Google Hangout and Duo, Zoom, etc. It’s a burden to be separated from the people we usually do life with, and these platforms help, though none of it works as well as a good old fashioned drive-by: one family in the car, the other family in their front yard, kids and parents able to talk and catch up face-to-face. It’s the best kind of medicine.
No matter what scenario we’re faced with come May — best case, or not-quite-there-yet — I’m thankful to be part of a community that cares about each other. Neighbors, acquaintances, doctors, school teachers and administration, churches, small businesses. We’re only one week in, and already I feel like Homewood may come out of all this smarter, stronger and kinder. So when you read these words, if we’re already back to normal, make sure to remind yourself of all we learned while we were in it ... and if things still feel like the twilight zone, maybe gather your people and get out of the house. If you’re walking, wave to everyone you see and look for beauty in unexpected places. If you’re driving, roll the windows down, turn the music up and breathe.
When I’m not writing about my family and our various shenanigans, I write novels and go to the grocery store. My next novel, “The Summer House,” releases June 2, 2020. You can reach me by email at Lauren@LaurenKDenton.com, visit my website LaurenKDenton.com, or find me on Instagram @LaurenKDentonBooks, Twitter @LaurenKDenton, or on Facebook ~LaurenKDentonAuthor.