Since the pandemic began I’ve told myself the quarantine restrictions were “for now.” That my real life would begin again later.
Surprisingly, I was fairly patient with this odd limbo. Although I had bad days sometimes, I accepted that living with restrictions was necessary. I could handle this. My life was not all I wished for, but I could be content within the new parameters.
And seriously, I have nothing to complain of.
Despite my acceptance I felt a level of distraction, a channel of disruption or low-key anxiety running in the background, keeping me from being wholly engaged in my days.
Perhaps I was sparing myself from comprehending the limits and freaking out about them. But I was also banking my fires, saving my fully present self for later. As if this wasn’t my real life.
After nearly 10 months, I understand I can’t keep holding back. This IS my real life. The days, weeks, months are ticking by. I won’t get them back. There’s no psychic bank account where the losses are preserved, waiting for me to claim them, and restore them to my life.
My days are different from what I imagined they would be right now, but I remind myself that I’m already doing a lot of what I like to do. I’m still writing. Reading. Volunteering. Finding other creative outlets. I’m not as connected with friends and family as I’d like to be, but I call or video chat with them.
I haven’t completely figured out how to be immersed in this life, but I know that’s the answer.
You’re right, Ellen. This isn’t the reality we wanted, but it is our reality for now. It won’t last forever, but there’s no sense in waiting for it to be over before we begin “living.” We need to live as fully as we can, right here and right now, I think.
Your words ring true for me as well, Ellen. All summer I kept busy outside, running from one task to the other, not paying attention to the elephant in the room (I garden for clients). But with season’s end, I had to face reality and stop pushing it away. I am adjusting to my smaller world, staying close to home. It is hard not seeing family and friends, though, esp. for the holidays. I keep telling myself that we’ll get through this!
So true, Ellen. Today is the only day we have and engaging is the only option. Engaging might look different than it did 10 months ago and maybe it isn’t full throttle, but checking out isn’t an option either. At least not for me. That low-grade anxiety keeps humming its discordant tune but there are other songs, too and how great it is that you can hear them and join in.
At this time of year, high school seniors are applying for colleges, grants, and scholarships. They are answering this simple question a dozen times over from their friends, classmates, and adults: What are your plans for after graduation?
Crystel decided to apply for one college and one college only. This isn’t much of a surprise because she goes after what she wants. Always has. She doesn’t stop until she achieves her goal. She rarely alters her course. I’ve become a believer of her dreams ever since she overcame a speech disorder. At 3, she could not talk intelligibly. Juan who could understand her best often spoke for her. There came the day when she told him, “STOP.” By the time she was 7 she had graduated from speech therapy and was onto her next achievement.
When she told me that she only applied to one school, I held my breath. She didn’t have a backup plan. She submitted her college application without telling Jody and me. I thought she would have at least asked me for advice about the personal statement. After all, I am a writer. She told me that she reflected on her friend who was accepted. He’s Hispanic with a single father. I quizzed her. Did you tell them that you have two moms? Adopted? Hispanic? She kept nodding. She also said that she was Vegan. What about your Tae Kwon Do 2nd Degree Black Belt? No, she had forgotten about that.
All I could do was hope that she got accepted.
Juan on the other hand, recently told someone he was taking a gap year. Several years ago, I so strongly believed in a gap year for Juan and Crystel that I bought several books:
I don’t think Juan opened a page of any of those books. Especially since I had already dropped them off at Goodwill.
Even so, he had latched onto the concept of not going to college. Not now. Maybe not at all.
For many reasons, Jody and I support Juan having a ‘gap’ year. He’s in the National Honor Society, active in Student Government and just finished his last season of Cross Country. Still, his path is not Crystel’s.
An adult recently asked Crystel, “What are you doing after graduation?” She responded, “Going to the University of Minnesota.” (She was accepted). The question was followed with, “What about Juan?” Without pausing she said, “He’s going to the basement.”
Juan is graduating from his bedroom to our finished basement. His current bedroom will convert to Jody’s home office. He will continue to work as he has since he was 14-years-old.
Crystel’s desire is to study abroad. I’m sure that will happen. Juan is looking forward to living in the basement. It has the feel of an apartment. He’ll move out when he’s ready. Until then, Jody and I will have a roommate.
Good choices for both of them. We hope to see them again (probably individually rather than together). Tell them they always have a place to stay. I can even clean up the kayak basement for Juan.
Elizabeth di Grazia
We are always looking forward to coming back. It’s our home. Hope both you and Elaine have a wonderful holiday.
Congrats to Crystel on her acceptance to UMinn. Gap years are a good idea, too. A friend’s son joined AmeriCorps for his gap year and he is really happy and learning a lot.
Bev Bachel
Enjoyed getting to know Juan and Crystel a bit better.
Hosted by entrepreneur Twila Dang and Minnesota Public Radio economics reporter Chris Farrell, the podcast disrupts the notion that people with low or unstable incomes don’t know how to manage money. To the contrary, they are often the most creative and collaborative when it comes to doing so.
I’ve listened to all seven episodes that have been released so far, but one in particular got me thinking about the smart money lessons I learned from my parents, both of whom were born into the Great Depression and grew up on modest family farms, my dad in western Minnesota and my mom near St. Cloud.
My parents, Vi and Jim Bachel
Their philosophy was “live off what you have.” This, combined with the fact that my dad supported our family of seven on not much more than $20,000 a year, led me to learn important money lessons that have made a huge difference in my financial wellbeing. Here are a few:
Lesson No. 1: If you don’t have the money, don’t buy it. I never saw my parents use a credit card. Other than the utility bills my dad paid by check every month, my parents paid cash for everything from groceries to Catholic school tuition to an occasional new car. They kept meticulous track of how much money they had via their Midwest Federal Savings Passbook.
Lesson No. 2: If you want more money, ask for it. I learned and was reminded of this lesson just about every week when my stay-at-home mom asked my dad for money for groceries. No matter how much he gave her, she always asked—and often lobbied vigorously—for more. Sometimes she got it, sometimes she didn’t. So, midcareer, when I was offered a job with a consulting firm, I took a deep breath and asked for—and eventually received—a pay increase, a signing bonus and an additional week of vacation.
Lesson No. 3: Don’t be afraid to haggle. I can’t recall the exact amount the seller of my house was asking, but I was do know I was prepared to pay that amount. That is, until I talked to my dad. He advised me to offer considerably less, so I did. The realtor told me the buyer would be insulted by such a low offer. He was. But he eventually agreed to sell me the house for considerably less than his original asking price and only $3,000 more than my original offer.
Lesson No. 4: Always get three estimates. Now that the pandemic has me hunkered down at home, I’ve been getting estimates for long overdue home chores, including painting the exterior of my home as well as the upstairs. In soliciting the estimates, I’m doing just what my parents taught me to do: calling three contractors. Their estimates range from roughly $5,000 to $20,000+, reminding me once again of the value of my parents’ advice.
Lesson No. 5: Save for retirement. Thanks to my parents’ urging, I started saving for retirement in my early 20s, when I got my first full-time job. It was at Honeywell. While I’m unsure how much I saved in the two years I worked there, I still have a 1984 Retirement Savings Plan statement showing that I contributed $55.94 in the fourth quarter of that year and had a yearend balance of $233.48. While that doesn’t seem like much to me now, I’m certain it did at the time.
I’m also certain that these and other money lessons I learned—from my parents, as well as friends, colleagues and podcasts such as small change—have made a huge difference in my financial wellbeing.
How about you? What money lessons did you learn…and from whom? And how have those lessons impacted your own financial wellbeing?
Sadly, I kind of learned what not to do about money from my parents, because they never managed theirs well. But I did get good pointers from my grandparents, who always lived below their means. And my husband was raised by parents who had very little money when they first got married, but who worked hard and saved and managed to do rather well for themselves in the end. They did things much the same way your parents did, and that was a good example to follow.
Bev Bachel
Thanks for sharing. I’ve appreciated hearing others’ “money stories” as I continue to try and better understand and change my own attitudes about money, particularly when it comes to spending. Am reading Die With Zero, which has made me realize that it’s time to start spending now, while I’m still healthy and have the ambition/desire to travel.
Like you, we were a large family with 7 kids, so money was tight, esp. after my dad was diagnosed with MS in his mid-30s and lost his well-paying job. While it was tough going and tight sneakers, I often think that the thrift I learned young has been helpful. I think it also resulted in me only having 2 kids!
Bev Bachel
I’ve been surprised by how the money lessons I learned as a kid have reverberated throughout my adult life. While most are ones I’m glad did, there are a few I wish I would have unlearned along the way.
Exactly.And even though I’ve never been an over-buyer, I still have far more stuff than I need or want at this point in my life.
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8 responses to “This IS Your Real Life”
My sentiments exactly — And it works well for the six word memorial statement for the pandemic, doesn’t it?
I think that was the summary version of my blog! 😉
You’re right, Ellen. This isn’t the reality we wanted, but it is our reality for now. It won’t last forever, but there’s no sense in waiting for it to be over before we begin “living.” We need to live as fully as we can, right here and right now, I think.
It’s weird. I didn’t even realize I was holding myself in reserve until recently.
Your words ring true for me as well, Ellen. All summer I kept busy outside, running from one task to the other, not paying attention to the elephant in the room (I garden for clients). But with season’s end, I had to face reality and stop pushing it away. I am adjusting to my smaller world, staying close to home. It is hard not seeing family and friends, though, esp. for the holidays. I keep telling myself that we’ll get through this!
Thanks for your comments. We WILL get through this! For me that comes in part from finding a way to savor the day I’m in. Take care!
So true, Ellen. Today is the only day we have and engaging is the only option. Engaging might look different than it did 10 months ago and maybe it isn’t full throttle, but checking out isn’t an option either. At least not for me. That low-grade anxiety keeps humming its discordant tune but there are other songs, too and how great it is that you can hear them and join in.
I agree — there are plenty of good things to drown out anxiety’s hum.