On Christmas Eve I visited my son and his family, initially masked, intending to eat outside.
When it was time to eat, I went to the balcony overlooking the cul-de-sac to call in the two youngest girls, 5 and 8. Sitting on skateboards, they rode the half block down to the end of the sloped street, picked up the board, went back, and did it again. They were taking turns with three other little girls, girls they played with regularly, but only outside. A little neighborhood Pod.
As my granddaughters entered the house through the downstairs garage, their little friends looked up at me and started chatting. They asked first if I was the grandmother, and when I answered "Yes," like good conversationalists, they told me about themselves using "grandmother" as our connection.
"When Covid is over, I'm going to visit my grandmother and my grandfather. They live in Iowa." one little girl remarked.
"I have never met my grandma and grandpa. They live in Egypt, but my mom says we can't go there because of Covid" a younger little girl said.
"I've met them," her sister remarked. "But a long time ago. I don't remember them too much."
"I remember my grandma and grandpa" the first girl joined in. "We went to see them last year, in the summer."
"You did?" I said. "What did you do with them?"
"We went camping in Iowa. But we can't do that now because of Covid."
"I've never been to Iowa," I said.
"I've never been to Egypt," the second girl said. "I was born after my mommy and daddy came here."
I laughed, "I've never been to Egypt either."
"My mommy is sad because we can't go there," she replied.
"Because they won't let us fly on airplanes." her sister added. "But when Covid is over, we'll go to Egypt to see our grandma and grandpa. Mommy said."
I looked down at their sweet faces, smiled, wished them a Happy Christmas, then left to join my grandchildren for dinner.
So hopeful, these young children between three and eight. So young, to be aware of this virus raging around us. "When Covid is over," they kept saying, but I wondered.
When will Covid be over?
When will we be allowed to move freely about the neighborhood, the country, the world?
And when we can, will those grandparents still be alive and well enough to enjoy these little ones who long to see them?
I'm lucky to see some of my grandchildren, not as often as I would wish, not as freely. No hugs or kisses, smiles often hidden by masks. The pandemic rages, and we all hunker down, hoping too, that soon it will be over so we can visit and hug those we love.
