One Year Later

A year ago, we were spending the weekend at an outdoor festival and the railroad park in Scottsdale, surrounded by crowds of people, calendar full of baseball games and birthday parties, looking forward to a week-long spring break. Little did we know my son had already spent his last day in his kindergarten classroom, he’d outgrow his little league uniform before wearing it more than once, and our whole world was about to change.

Now, my kids wear masks when they pretend they’re going to wizarding school, because to them it’s just another school supply. They got a new art kit and mistook the glue for hand sanitizer because the clear liquid looks the same and that’s become a more common household item. My first-grader knows when his classmates’ grandparents are getting their vaccines because that’s what they talk about during lunch at school.

Last March, we cancelled visits with family and postponed all travel plans. We stocked up on toilet paper and canned food, preparing for a potential lockdown that became reality. We entered the unknown. We didn’t know when it would end.

Now, one year later, hope is on the horizon. We are making plans to travel again. All of my family members back east have been vaccinated, the first of which was my mom, a healthcare worker who we haven’t seen in person in a year and a half.

Now, she’s spending spring break with her grandchildren.