With not a lot of choice, we decided to have a COVID style Mother’s Day. What does that look like you ask? It means getting up and having a nice Mother’s Day at home for Christine then driving to the river and talking to my mother through the window. At 85, she’s chosen a very strict regime of quarantine by not allowing anyone in the house and getting everything she needs through drive-up methods. We’ve checked on the house a few times and all seems well. The chats through the window are awkward and difficult since her hearing is so bad, but we delivered a card we left on a side bench where she grabbed it once we left for a walk. The air was crisp and thoughts of kayaking lost out to a warmer jaunt along the shore, besides, the strangeness of the day would continue with Christine having a social-distance picnic with Kelly for yet another COVID style Mother’s Day. Away from family, they sat on a quiet overlook in Charlevoix wondering when we can get back to family dinners and hugs. Back home, Christine was tired, and you could tell it was a fatigue from the strange isolation, from the lack of family touch. Kelly works in an ER and needs to be vigilant. The good news was supper. We enjoyed a fabulous pork tenderloin smothered in a mustard marinade and sauerkraut topped off with some fresh baked cookies as dessert. We lounged in the upstairs bedroom and gazed out at the sunset thankful for our health as we made final contacts with kids and grandkids around the country. A strange day, indeed, yet complete in the tasks of remembering moms. We nestled into night and dreams of next year being different.
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