Every year for the past 21 years in May, I’ve spent a week or more at the beach. The close of the university school year. A time before the beaches were crowded. When the weather could be iffy. Turning the heat on in May can be a thing, even in the mid-Atlantic.
As the month draws to a close and I’m still at home, I can’t ignore the fact that we take–took so much for granted in our lives. I took for granted my beach time in May and August. That I could run into a grocery store and purchase anything I wanted. That I could visit my older brothers and their families and not worry about putting them in jeopardy. That I could hug my friends, get together easily for dinner, an evening of karaoke, a barbecue.
My SIL wants me to visit, wear a mask, spend some quality time. In Northern VA, we might be hitting the peak of the virus and I really want/need to see my family, but I know that there will be no hugging. There will be masks. We’ll sit outside in the garden, distanced, and that will be okay. That will be more than okay. It will be wonderful as long as we’re sensible.
And, even though I won’t get my beach time, I might get some distanced family time. I won’t take it for granted. I’ll want to hug but won’t.
Such a lesson in never taking anything for granted.
A lesson in appreciating what we have because it could be/is fleeting.