Our first family dinner over Zoom.
Back in March.
Dad in Massachusetts alone.
Mom in Utah alone.
Me in Arizona alone.
And my children and their spouses/significant others in Oregon.
We had spaghetti, although Mom and I strayed from the plan and fixed something else.
We laughed about how each of us except the Utahn had brought boxed wine to the party.
We shared what is going on, our stories of grocery story other-worldliness, and my children’s search for farmable land in Oregon.
To build their dream… a family farm… for my three children and their spouses.
My children don’t have strong ties to my parents.
My parents divorced when I was 5 and I moved away from Salt Lake as soon as I married.
Grudges and judgments divided us, mostly on my part.
And look at us… Brought closer because of a virus. A gift. Not even a silver lining. Just a downright gift. I can’t even fathom how big this gift is. My children’s generosity to fold the three of us into their full lives, knowing we are alone. Recognizing what that must be like for us. I’m beyond grateful for this virus… there I’ve said it. No matter what happens, nothing can take away the memory of this first Sunday dinner with my parents and my children. A miracle right there in my living room.
We have met each Sunday but one since.
Is it 11 weeks now? Time exists differently these days with Covid-19.
I can't wait for Sunday!