Dearest Jack and Lucy,
You have no idea how thrilled I was to see those photos and videos of you guys biking on the boardwalk, running along the beach, and playing at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean. It was your parents’ anniversary, and you spent last weekend in Cape May, New Jersey, where they got married 12 years ago. That area is never more beautiful than in the off season, and you kids needed the freedom to spread your wings amid a time when the social isolation required by Covid-19 can be emotionally crippling.
2020 will be a year you will never forget. Almost as soon as we all got back from Club Med Ixtapa last February, the world went into lockdown because of Covid-19. Lucy, you felt so sad about having to finish kindergarten via Zoom that on some days you refused to join the conversation, unless it was a one-on-one with a teacher you adored. Jack, missing the games and social interaction that came with recess, you began doing your “independent learning” days with your friend, Liam, also via Zoom.
At the end of February, your Daddy started a new job. Instead of reporting to a beautiful hi tech campus like something out of the movies, he was confined to the garage of the too small ranch house you were renting in California. Passover was a Zoom call with your aunts, uncles and cousins, where the grownups lamented the fact that President Trump was acting like Covid was a hoax.
The summer was not what you had been planning. Lucy, most of the day camps for which Mommy had signed you up in early winter were cancelled. Jack, because of the long flight involved during a time of Covid, you had to forego sleep-a-way camp. You enjoyed your golf camp and private lessons on an 18-hole course overlooking the water, but it wasn't the same.
The California wild fires were the final straw. Even on extremely warm days, the smoke was so bad that you were confined to the house. This, plus more, made your parents decide that this would be a good time to move back East, specifically to the Philadelphia area, where you had family.
Jack, I was lucky to have you visit Grandpa Dennis and me here in Boston toward the end of September, while your sister, and Mom and Dad were camping out at the home of your Aunt Dana and Uncle Dan in Delaware. After deciding there were too few homes available for purchase, thanks to Covid, they found a big old house to rent in Wynnewood, Pa.
That was just days before your parents looked forward to having you physically attend school, but only four afternoons a week -- first grade for you, Lucy, and fourth grade for you, Jack, at Merion Elementary. I felt blessed to be able to drive down to Wynnewood to stay with you for a few weeks, while Mommy and Daddy took care of emptying out the house in California.
Among my greatest pleasures were walking the two of you to the bus stop every afternoon, and seeing your smiling faces as you stepped off the bus after school. I loved walking with you to the gourmet ice cream shop in Narberth. At your request, we also went to that serve-your-own frozen yogurt place at the shopping center near your new home. Honestly, that made me nervous, despite the fact that customers were required to wear face masks and gloves that felt like flimsy plastic bags.
Jack, you and I enjoyed tossing a ball around in both your basement and on the patio. Lucy, you and I worked together on your remote learning, and I had the joy of spying on you while you participated in an online gym class. I also drove you to and from your gymnastics class. You got a big laugh over the picture I posted on Facebook showing Donald Trump with a fly on his butt.
The aforementioned activities could not have been conducted via FaceTime. That’s why I looked forward to returning to see you over a long weekend at the beginning of Hanukkah. Alas, about a week ago, your Mom sent me a text saying “Covid is getting pretty bad here. You may want to hold off visiting.” Shortly after that, she said you kids were returning to virtual learning, at least until January.
Even when you were living on the West Coast, you and your parents often flew East to gather with Grandpa Dennis and me, and his extended family at Uncle Jeremy’s home in Connecticut. This year, I’ve had to make my peace with getting takeout Thanksgiving meals from Davio’s while the two of us celebrate by ourselves.
Last night, when I told your Mom how bummed I was about not getting to see you for the holidays, she sent me a text: “[Doctors] think we’ll have some normalcy by summer. So we just have to redouble our efforts for a little while longer. It’s one Thanksgiving, one Hanukkah, etc.”
Have no fears. Your Hanukkah gifts will be arriving via Amazon.
Love, Bubbie Bonnie
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