Today, I drove to my office.
The last time I was here was March 13th. The Friday before our Spring Break trip.
Things were already quite uncertain then. But I had no idea what would come. Or for how long.
It’s Wednesday, May 20th. It’s been over 2 months.
I can’t come back every day yet. There’s still no one to watch the kids – really nowhere to put our country’s children (safely). Our school will end today. So will my two month’s tenure as a homeschool teacher.
Yesterday, while thinking about coming in, I was excited. As a corporate lawyer, I need time and quiet to think through legal issues and write coherent documents. While I actually enjoyed my time working from home (breakfast with my kids for the first time in six years, no long commute, etc.), it was very hard to get quiet time for deep thought.
But this morning, I nearly cried on the way in.
I wasn’t ready.
Today was their last day of remote learning. I wasn’t there to help them get on their Zoom calls and photograph their math assignments and lead a devotional over a late breakfast.
Plus there is general anxiety over coming back to a workplace when cases in our state and county are most definitely on the rise, as are hospitalizations. One friend wrote on social media recently, it’s like we just gave up on containing the virus.
In writing a friend this morning, she responded with this:
I am so excited to return to the office. I am so nervous to return to the office.
I am so happy to eat at all the restaurants and go all the places. But then I don’t understand why we can’t just sit here and play family games.
I want my son’s baseball to start so he can see his friends. But then I don’t want baseball to start.
I am so excited for this to end. I desperately don’t want this to end.
I am all the feels. All the relaxed. All the overwhelmed.
I couldn’t have written that any better.
There is still so much unknown.
And while I love this quiet environment and these big double computer screens to edit my documents, I miss my little corner at the kitchen table with kids fighting over Rip Stiks.
I don’t want to go back to life like it was.
We won’t. We can’t. At least not for a long time.
But during this time, in the in between, when there is some normal and some still wildly abnormal, how do we sift out what is really important and implement changes that stay with us.
There’s so much hard ahead.
But there’s so much good in what we’ve uncovered during this season.