In our household, the persistent question is, “When will life return to normal?” With my daughters aged 20, 18, and 15, they look to me for reassurance that the end of quarantine is on the horizon and that their lives will soon resume. They want to know when they can leave the house, reconnect with friends, and return to their college and high school classrooms. The uncomfortable truth is that I don’t have the answers. I simply don’t know.
Tensions are running high, and patience is wearing thin in our home these days. After weeks of being together, there are moments of joy, like when I catch my daughters, nearly adults, cooking and laughing together. I can’t help but wonder if this might be the last time they all share a home.
Then there are challenging days—some really tough ones. Disappointment looms large as an unworn prom dress and graduation gown hang untouched in the closet. A summer internship has been canceled, and the devastating news of a friend’s father succumbing to the coronavirus weighs heavily on us. Media headlines amplify anxiety, showcasing images of sick patients outside hospitals, and my daughters are filled with questions about the health of our loved ones.
The question of when life will return to normal is complex and difficult to answer. The information I encounter often contradicts itself: “Restrictions will ease by summer” versus “universities are canceling fall classes, and death tolls are expected to rise.” I wish I could provide them with the clarity they seek, but the future remains shrouded in uncertainty. What will normal even look like? Will I think twice before hugging a friend? Will I wear a face mask to the gym? Will I allow my kids to attend concerts? While I want to avoid living in fear, the need to keep my family safe is paramount.
The only other time I recall feeling such vulnerability was after 9/11. I was eight months pregnant, sitting on the floor, watching as the second plane struck the World Trade Center. In the years that followed, there was a clear distinction between “before” and “after” the tragedy—a time when flying or attending large gatherings didn’t provoke a second thought, contrasted with a time filled with fear. Eventually, the passage of time eased some of that fear, but I was never quite the same.
What I can assure my daughters is that life will continue after the coronavirus. Gradual steps towards normalcy will occur, and eventually, treatments or vaccines will be developed. They will reclaim their lives.
For me, there will always be a “before” and “after” the coronavirus. I learned the hard way that life is unpredictable. When grocery store shelves are once again stocked with disinfecting wipes and toilet paper, I’ll remember waiting in line for just one per customer. The first time I can visit my parents after months apart, I know I will feel an immense gratitude for their presence in my life. My daughters, too, will be thankful to return to college and high school, sitting side by side with their classmates.
Like them, I am eager to restore a sense of normalcy, but the coronavirus has indelibly altered our lives. Perhaps the outcome will be a newfound perspective and appreciation for what we once took for granted. And maybe, just maybe, that won’t be such a bad thing after all.
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In summary, while the answers to my daughters’ questions remain elusive, the promise of a new normal provides a glimmer of hope.