Solar eclipses provides great family fun
In case you’ve been living under a rock the last week or so, the once-in-alifetime event known as “Solar Eclipse Totality in Your Town (or near to it)” happened this past Monday, and every Buckeye with a set of eyes gathered to witness the spectacle.
Unlike many of our friends, our family — whose geographic location fell in the 99.5% totality zone, but who are completely traveled out by this point in the figure-skating season — did not make plans to hit the road for the occasion.
Instead, we gathered with family, set up lawn chairs in the driveway and visited as we waited for the shadow of the moon to block out the sun.
It felt surreal, this much-hyped event that we’d read about and prepared for (as much as one can prepare for these sorts of things) — but still weren’t quite sure what to expect because it had never happened to us — was unfolding before our very eyes.
What does one do to document such an occasion? Do we even try? Or do we merely ... experience it?
We showed up for lunch at my mother-in-law’s house, armed with our special cardboard-and-plastic glasses, covered in written instructions we didn’t read, dressed for the 74-degree weather and not particularly sure what to expect. (The kids, of course, had been informed and I underscored the importance of the 30-seconds-until-irreversible-eye-damage rule.)
Mostly it was a chance to just get together, as if we needed an intersection of heavenly bodies to make an excuse to do that.
It was fun to be in the same space, counting down the moments until this extraordinary event. Like gathering with loved ones in Times Square on New Year’s Eve (I have no desire to ever do this; too cold, too crowded, too late) − the anticipation, the buildup, the celebration that ensues when we collectively witness a milestone.
There in the driveway, with the April sun beating down on us, we played a little catch and got our first sunburns of the year. We drank iced tea and the kids tired themselves out and it truly felt like an old-fashioned family reunion − folks gathered around together in the sunshine, celebrating.
Occasionally someone would get out their glasses and make an observation: “Oh, I can see a little sliver that’s covered!”
And then everyone else would join: “It looks bigger than the last time!” “Does it seem darker out here?” “Are the birds getting quiet?” “Hey, the streetlights came on!” “I’m getting chilly!”
“I feel like I’m looking at the world through an Instagram filter.”
It felt wholesome and nostalgic — with a twist of the unexpected — and though our window of near-totality lasted only four minutes or so, it was enough to make memories that will hopefully last for the rest of our lives.
I think what struck me was the beauty of being able to celebrate the big-ness of something beyond ourselves, and to celebrate it with the ones we love.
Also the recognition that yes, while there would be and have been better photos and in-depth coverage and other places where we could go to witness the spectacle known as the Solar Eclipse of 2024, the point was that we were watching it with our own eyes.
And we were watching it together. In our independent culture with our handy phones and our ever-present technology and our obsession with slapping filters on real life, it felt good to experience something real and in-person with the ones we loved, so that sometime down the road, not only can we recall the day the sun was eclipsed by the moon, but the ones who were by our side — in person and in our hearts — as we watched history being made.
Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.