A COVID Summer

This summer has been, well, different.  There's no summer camp, no pool parties, no amusement parks, no sleepovers, and, so far, no vacations.  Perhaps the most difficult decision was to cancel (or postpone) our trip to Glacier National Park.  In July, we were going to go on an awesome 10 day trip of hiking, sightseeing, boating and adventure parks, but as the date grew nearer, we realized it would be too risky to fly and be in crowded spaces, especially since we have my 76 year-old mom living in the same house!

I can't say, however, this summer has been terrible.  We are still managing to visit friends and family (one small group at a time), and we've been spending more time outdoors than ever before.  Even more, we've added our puppy, Bruce, into the mix, and he's made life anything but boring. 

Here's Summer 2020 at a glance:

In June, we went strawberry picking.  We tried a new farm and loved it.  The social distancing was perfect so that neither of us needed to wear a mask, plus the strawberries were ripe, juicy, and delicious.  We even treated ourselves to a Dunkin' Donuts Frozen Hot Chocolate on the ride back home.  It was the perfect treat to end a perfect day outdoors.

We went to the lake house!  Friends of my dad invited the three of us to enjoy a day at Gardner Lake in Salem, CT.  Not only was the ride beautiful (we took back roads that brought us through Durham, Haddam, and East Haddam), but we had a chance to swim, relax on floats, jet ski, and go tubing.  It was a beautiful day spent outdoors reminiscing with old family friends.

We swam, lit a campfire, and made s'mores.

We hiked in new places...many new places...

And we enjoyed lots of puppy antics while watching Bruce grow!!

And so while life has definitely been moving slower, we haven't been doing less.  We are just having a chance to enjoy the simpler things...right next to home.  

Memorial Service at Connecticut Veterans' Cemetery

Yesterday we had a memorial service for our beloved Ninny and Papa at the Connecticut Veterans' Cemetery.  It had been a long time coming.  Five years ago, we lost Papa to Cancer, and we held onto his ashes in our home.  We had talked about making the Connecticut Veterans' Cemetery his final resting place, but in the end, it seemed that the entire family was struck with too much grief to think about it.  Instead, we had a nice funeral service and a small gathering to honor him.

This year, with Ninny's passing, it seemed that having the memorial service at the Veterans' Cemetery was the perfect choice, particularly with the pandemic.  We were told that the service would be held outside, and the capacity would be limited to 50 people (with masks and social distancing).  For us, a 50 person capacity was plenty, and in the end, we probably had more like 30 family and friends come to pay their final farewells.

The ceremony was brief but touching.  Two young service members prepared us for the three volleys fired, each bullet representing the words duty, honor, and country.   After the shots were fired, the men unfolded and refolded the American Flag, saluted it, and gave it to my husband.  Then, my husband thanked everyone for coming and read a poem to honor his parents' memory.  (He had tried very hard to write a eulogy for his mom, but in the end, her quick death was just too fresh and painful; he was too sad to do it!)

Having this ceremony really felt like it was "meant to be."  It's as if we held Papa's ashes just long enough until the two of them could be buried together.  Having met when she was fourteen and he was seventeen, they were lifelong soulmates, and although they broke up when he served in the Navy for three and a half years, they instantly reconnected after his return.  Their love for each other had only become more amplified through the years; and, indeed, they shared the same value of always placing family first.  They lived for their children and grandchildren just as much as they lived for each other.

They will be missed, but their legacy of fun, friends, and family will stay with us...
until we meet again. 

Saying Goodbye to Ninny

On June 26, 2020, we had to say goodbye to our beloved Ninny (my mother-in-law and Little Lewie's grandmother).  If 2020 wasn't hard enough, Ninny learned just five weeks earlier that she had stage four stomach and uterine Cancer.  The news was a blow to all of us, but we never would have guessed that just a short five weeks later, she would be joining her husband (Papa) in heaven.

Ninny was a staple at all of our family gatherings--picnics, birthdays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, weddings, baptisms, and First Communions (to name a few).  Little Lewie was her fourth grandchild (out of six grandchildren), and Ninny even had one great grandchild.  She LOVED kids, and needless to say, she LOVED watching Lewie as a baby when I started going back to work on a part-time basis.  Her house was filled with goodies (cookies, cupcakes, ice cream), and in the background, some sort of cartoon would be playing on TV.  Anytime Little Lewie visited, he'd ask for her special cinnamon toast. (I personally loved her coffee and cheese cake.)  Of course, Florence knew how to cook just about anything Italian, too.

When I started dating Lew, Florence's first question to me was "How old are you?"  My husband had been in two serious relationships before me--one with a woman about ten years older and another with a girl ten years younger.  She had seemed relieved when I told her I was only five years younger than Lew; of course, neither of us thought at the time that we would become relatives through marriage.

Through the years, I learned more and more about Florence; she loved telling stories and could talk for hours through the night.  There were stories about how she and her husband met; stories about her three children; stories about moving to Pennsylvania and Massachusetts; stories about living in different neighborhoods of Waterbury, CT; stories about how many bones my husband broke throughout his childhood; stories about her strange neighbors; stories about her children's friends; stories about her ceramics studio; and stories about when she worked as a recreational therapist at Abbott Terrace Health Center.  Yes, when she grabbed a cigarette in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, that was the cue to sit back and relax because I knew I would be visiting for a while.

After Papa's death, Florence was crushed.  The two of them had been married for close to 50 years; she no longer had her life partner.  (Of course, before his death, Papa had been sick for ten of those years, and Florence was his caregiver, visiting nurse, and wife all rolled up into one.)  Unfortunately, most of the years I knew Florence was during this very difficult time; her heart was troubled and so the only time we'd get a few glimpses of her old self would be during the holidays.

Before Papa's illness, she was funny, generous, free-spirited, spiritual, artsy, and sometimes even the life of the party.  She loved painting and ceramics, flowers, nature, photos, and loose flowy clothes.  She adored spoiling her grandchildren, and she loved when her children would tease her--especially about her long-winded stories or her martyr syndrome complex.  (Florence would sacrifice anything for her children and grandchildren, and she wasn't shy in letting us know about it either.)

Yes, the Coronavirus has changed everything this year, but so has Ninny's death.  My husband went from anxious/lifesaving mode in June to pure grief and sadness in July.  We're all sad.  The saying, "Time heals all wounds" is fitting here.  I wish there was some sort of magic pill we could take to make everything happy and carefree again, but unfortunately, I know that can only come with time.

I end this post with my husband's favorite picture of his mom.  As the story goes, my husband was in a popular cover band in South Carolina during his graduate school days.  One of his favorite life moments is when he was able to tour with the band in Connecticut, and all of his friends and family came out to see him.  (I didn't know him then.)  His mom was so proud of him that she rushed the stage and kissed his cheek while he was playing; the evidence is in this photo here...

She was super proud of my husband and his musical talent...  I think she was proud of his choice in a wife, too!

5th Grade Graduation - 2020 COVID Style

Last week, Little Lewie, yes, the little tyke you see waiting for the bus, graduated from 5th Grade!

He had a joyous five years of elementary school, and in what seemed like the blink of an eye, it all ended.  Boom.  Like that.  Over.  Done.  Finished.

We received news that his school would have a Drive Thru 5th Grade Promotion.  (In my day, it was called a graduation.)  One by one, a line of cars would drive through and stop at two tables.  At the first table, students would be able to say goodbye to the DARE Officer that taught them throughout the year.  At the second table, they could pick up their Certificate of Promotion and take a quick picture with their teacher (as long as they wore a mask and tried to social distance themselves).

At first, I thought the process would be so quick, I wouldn't have time to be emotional.  However, as we gathered in line (which went pretty fast), and we saw Principal Mur****, I lost it.  I mean, I really lost it.  My husband, who started out by making fun of me, soon started crying, too.  The only one in the car that didn't cry was Little Lewie.  He said he was too angry at COVID-19 to be sad, and of course, I promised him that one day, perhaps next year, we would return to his elementary school to "properly" say goodbye to his teachers--with hugs and everything.  (It's a nice thought.)

When we drove home and I wiped the tears from my eyes, Little Lewie and I looked at his yearbook together and some of the other "goodies" he received--his certificate, an Amazon gift card, and a treat bag that said "I wish we had s'more time together" (with just enough ingredients to make a s'more).  I was thrilled to see that his teacher put many of Lewie's pictures into the yearbook, like these...

I got choked up another time.  Elementary school was a place of many milestones...his first science fair, history fair, and geography fair; his first art show; his first winter concert; his first 5-K; his first school friends; his first Junior Achievement class (with his parents as teachers); his first real playground and gym class; his first game of dodge ball; his first school bus ride, etc. etc.  All the memories came charging full force.  I would miss his school principal, his teachers, his counselor, and especially his fifth grade teachers, who communicated with us on a weekly basis once we started learning from home.  Everyone had been so patient, kind, understanding, compassionate, and helpful.  I still feel this overwhelming sense of gratitude when I think of these special years.  The teachers made them magical.

We ended the day with a special dinner and Grammy's homemade chocolate cake!  Then, a week later, we had a "Celebrate Lewie Night."  Here we spent an hour watching a slideshow of all the 5th graders (set to music); a "congratulations speech" by his superintendent, principal, and teachers; and a recording of his concert music.  I know I'm going to sound a little boastful when I say that I thought Little Lewie's recording was the best.  (Honestly, I was so proud of him; his hours of trumpet practice really showed!)

Now, after all the hours of "homeschooling"-- reading, writing, math, science, history, trumpet practice and art--everything has all come crashing to an end, a deafening silence, a void.  Normally Lewie would be starting camp right now with new adventures awaiting him.  There would be preparation for our next National Park trip to Glacier National Park, too.  Instead, we're home--me with the equivalent of "Zoom Meetings," Lewie with x-box, and my husband with work and some unhappy family news.  It will be a "different" summer, but I hope to use this time to create new memories...ones that will be unique to this time but just as happy and fulfilling.  We'll celebrate again when hugs and real goodbyes are allowed.