Last night as I was finishing up some work, I heard a bang on the back door.
Then Rebekah yelled up the stairs, "Grab a mask and get down here!"
I yelled back, "No! I'm working. You handle it."
So she ran upstairs, opened my door, and repeated it.
With a glance at the clock and a big sigh at being interrupted, I grabbed a mask and stomped downstairs, wondering who dared cross the threshold of my deadlines.
And there, at the back door, were three of my grandchildren, paying ME a window visit.
I hadn't seen them since before the pandemic.
Now I was still on deadline, and the visit was brief.
No hugs, no kisses, and we all stayed more than six feet apart.
The youngest did take a step, poised to run at me for a hug, and she was told to step back. She was a little grumpy, and a little confused as she's only four, about that.
But we exchanged lots of "I love yous," and "I miss yous." It made my night. I'm still smiling this morning.
I saw on social media this past weekend about how one grandmother bought a character costume so she could hug her grandkids. It's an idea, definitely.
Earlier in the day, I had griped to my WriteOn Joliet co-leader about missing my older children and THEIR children as we also griped about the rising positivity numbers in Will County and having to schedule yet another virtual meeting for our critique group this Thursday.
It's true that this pandemic has taken away peoples lives, livelihoods, income, and close contact with people they love.
But it has brought creativity and ingenuity in the quest for vaccines and treatments, work form home and remote learning models, and ways to "stay close," as well a determination that negativity won't be the final word.
Then Rebekah yelled up the stairs, "Grab a mask and get down here!"
I yelled back, "No! I'm working. You handle it."
So she ran upstairs, opened my door, and repeated it.
With a glance at the clock and a big sigh at being interrupted, I grabbed a mask and stomped downstairs, wondering who dared cross the threshold of my deadlines.
And there, at the back door, were three of my grandchildren, paying ME a window visit.
I hadn't seen them since before the pandemic.
Now I was still on deadline, and the visit was brief.
No hugs, no kisses, and we all stayed more than six feet apart.
The youngest did take a step, poised to run at me for a hug, and she was told to step back. She was a little grumpy, and a little confused as she's only four, about that.
But we exchanged lots of "I love yous," and "I miss yous." It made my night. I'm still smiling this morning.
I saw on social media this past weekend about how one grandmother bought a character costume so she could hug her grandkids. It's an idea, definitely.
Earlier in the day, I had griped to my WriteOn Joliet co-leader about missing my older children and THEIR children as we also griped about the rising positivity numbers in Will County and having to schedule yet another virtual meeting for our critique group this Thursday.
It's true that this pandemic has taken away peoples lives, livelihoods, income, and close contact with people they love.
But it has brought creativity and ingenuity in the quest for vaccines and treatments, work form home and remote learning models, and ways to "stay close," as well a determination that negativity won't be the final word.
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