Although we inch toward normalcy, I’ve learned to embrace the slowdown
As days shorten and shadows lengthen, my calendar fills up with all manner of events. In my neck of the woods, the last four months of the year are always busy. No matter how much I plan or how organized I strive to be, commitments crowd in.
How did my life get so complicated?
Not that I’m complaining. In fact, I’m grateful that my skills are still needed and my presence still welcomed. That’s certainly better than moping at home alone. Or being considered too old, too tired, too out-ofit.
Friends have suggested I practice the fine art of saying “no,” and I’ve done so on occasion. But I think it best to seize riches while I can. After caring for an elderly father for years, I’m well aware that the stack of invitations dwindles along with one’s energy and mobility.
Some people regard fall as the season of pumpkin lattes, caramel apples and sweater weather, but for me, it’s really about scheduling. About navigating conflicting engagements. About fulfilling the duties as The Matriarch, a jokey honor title my sons have given me. Besides, when you live in Miami, the mercury doesn’t drop significantly until mid or late-November. And that’s if we’re lucky.
Usually I’m still sleeveless at Thanksgiving, and the choice of attire has nothing to do with the heat from the oven. So, while others post stunning photos of golden and crimson leaves on social media, I’m considering photographing the colors on my paper calendar. (I like the look of tidy rows and columns decorated with the scribble of blue, black and red ink.)
And yes, I keep that relic of pre-digital times, though Google and Outlook do a better job of keeping me on task. Even so, there’s nothing quite like pressing pen to paper to fix a date firmly in my mind.
Just last week I spent a good 45 minutes texting and talking with family members as we tried to sort out a potential conflict between children’s birthday parties. Most of my grandkids’ and grandnieces’ birthdays fall in that span between September and the end of the year. October and November are particularly difficult, and long holiday weekends provide little room for maneuvering. Hence, landing a free Saturday or Sunday afternoon can be tricky, made even more complicated by such extracurricular activities as dance, taekwondo, and assorted practices and matches.
Penciling in birthdays got me thinking about how I sort of, kind of, somewhat miss those early months of the pandemic, when sheltering in place forced us into a stillness most of us didn’t know or had rarely practiced. I can’t believe I’m admitting to this, but there you have it. Never would I have thought I’d be nostalgic for lockdown.
2020 was a year of loss and anxiety. For a few, long months I wasn’t able to hug my family. I couldn’t visit friends. Quarantining proved to be a reminder of all I took for granted, all I failed to appreciate. And yet. And yet. Lockdown gifted me a life that was less busy and far simpler. I didn’t bother with makeup. I read more. I phoned more people, rekindling relationships I had inadvertently let fall by the wayside. I was less social in the physical realm but more present for Zoom happy hours and Crowdcast webinars.
Don’t misunderstand. I’m thankful that, thanks to the miracle of vaccines, we appear to be tiptoeing into something that resembles normal. Nevertheless, I wonder if I shouldn’t force stretches of empty white space back on my calendar. Among the pandemic lessons I learned the hard way, enjoying the nurturing quality of quiet certainly tops the list.
Ana Veciana-Suarez writes about family and social issues. Email her at avecianasuarez@gmail.com or visit her website anavecianasuarez.com. Follow @AnaVeciana.