Hi sweet girl. I haven’t written to you here since you were a baby and now we are two months away from you being 7. That’s far too long! But, we’re in an extraordinary time in the world – it seems fitting to tell you about it in the ways I can’t right now.
Our entire planet is in the midst of a global pandemic. The last one of any comparable size was 102 years ago – the Spanish Flu of 1918-1920. Everything is so weird right now – we are practicing a thing called “social distancing” which is basically a really fancy way of saying stay away from other people. I work from our guest room now, you do school online from the kitchen table and your dad is holding us together.
Last week, Idaho ordered all non-essential businesses to close and all non-essential employees to stay at home. For so many people, this means they don’t have a job or any income – people are very afraid. Not only of a virus that is moving fast and killing people horribly but also afraid of what their life looks like without work or money.
We are lucky to be where we are – back in Boise after 4 years away, in a house we can afford, your school is doing amazing at virtual learning and your dad is doing incredible at working through it with you, I can and am working like “normal” from home – whatever normal is now.
Even though we’re lucky, I’m sad and scared and anxious a lot of the time. I’m sad because I miss our family – we haven’t seen Papa and Mauggie, Mimi and Ghaaaaa or your Auntsy in weeks. Abbie is alone in SLC and we all worry about her so far away. It’s been even longer for our friends. I miss them and so do you – so we’re doing a lot of video calls and texting these days. I’m scared that someone we love will get it or that one of us will. Even though we’d likely be ok, the thought of you going through that fear makes me so concerned I can barely look at it without sobbing. And all of this plus the economic concerns has me anxious all of the time.
I worry how much of our anxiety you are picking up on. You understand this is a disease and it is bad, you understand why and how we need to protect the people around us. Your dad has a cold and you barely slept last night – finally, this morning, you told me you were afraid it was coronavirus. So we talked about it and that he doesn’t have the symptoms and is feeling better today – you seem to have calmed down and feel better. But I worry about what you’re worrying about.
You, my precious girl, are an actual miracle. You are kind and funny, smart and interested in everything. You are so loving – it’s the best thing ever. Every day with you is filled with “I love you” and kisses and hugs and sweetness. In the midst of all of this worry around the globe, you tell us regularly how much you like having everyone at home. You thank me for working from home so you can see me during the day, you go nuts with gratitude every time you ride bikes with Daddy (at least once a day). You snuggle and play and are full of joy every day. This time with you is incredible – it’s the bright side of something life changing and world changing. My greatest hope is that you will look back on this pandemic with joy and fondness remembering how we grew and changed together and most of all the amazing year we spent as a family together all of the time.
I love you forever, I am so glad I’m your Mama.
Love,
Mama.
Tagged: #dearcharlie
jenn.tampsin 
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