“I just want everything to go back to normal.”
I’ve heard and uttered those words innumerable times over the last few weeks. Aren’t we all longing for the normalcy we had pre-Covid19? Back when we could visit amusement parks, movie theaters, and church buildings without fear of contracting a dangerous, life-threatening virus. Back when we could meet our friends for dinner or coffee. The beautiful lives we lived at the beginning of 2020 have changed so much in the last months.
Upon careful reflection though, I am starting to realize that maybe I’ve romanticized “pre-Covid” a little bit. Somehow, in hindsight, it has turned into this carefree, busy-but-fun, socially fulfilling, ongoing party. However, when I take a hard look in the rear view, I know that “pre-Covid” wasn’t all fun and games.
Before school was unexpectedly dismissed, I had a kiddo struggling hard core. Our evenings were filled with seemingly unending homework assignments. We were researching tutors, supplemental programs, and curriculums that could aid us in our effort to help our child succeed. Stress was high, but it was familiar and somehow comfortable. Before we were forced to wear masks to cover our faces, we weren’t all smiles but somehow, looking back, I forget that. Pre-Covid certainly wasn’t all roses but, DANG, I miss the familiarity of it.
As a foster parent, I have seen this scenario play out time and time again. Kids are ripped from everything that’s familiar and comfortable and with little warning, are plopped into a whole new story. A story where they don’t know the characters, the plot, or how it’s going to end. They can reason that things weren’t all roses before, but DANG, they miss the familiarity of what they once had.
I’ve watched kids grapple with their new normal while trying to untangle which parts of their old lives were healthy and great and which parts were unhealthy and not good. I have watched this for years from the sidelines, but this is my first time experiencing it for myself. Until very recently I have lacked the life experience to draw from in order to offer true, genuine empathy. And as much as I loathe the process, I am realizing that it’s making me a better, more compassionate person.
I suspect that there are others like me, for whom life hasn’t been perfect, but for whom life has been mostly good. We have had the privilege of stability in our families and our jobs and our living situations and our relationships. Those blessings have allowed us to have solid footing in order to reach out to others and offer a measure of help and assistance. And we have done some good. But what I have missed out on is some insight to the lived life of someone whose world has been turned inside out with no hope of it returning to what’s familiar anytime soon.
It’s a lesson that, frankly, stinks. It is valuable insight that is gained only by living some life in the trenches. It’s a story that too many kids have been forced to tell. It’s a lesson that I am begrudgingly learning for myself and as strange as it sounds, I’m grateful to be learning. I believe that having experienced a tiny dose of what children are forced to live out in huge measures will make me a better person.
I hope that if and when my world goes “back to normal” that I will be able to cling to the lessons I’m learning in this hard, strange season.
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Read more of Abbie Mabary’s contributions to AllMomDoes here.
