That Damn Virus

On February 27th, I received the email I was dreading.  Our boy’s beloved American School in Japan announced they would be closing for a month.  A. whole. month. 

Until that moment, I hadn’t given much thought to Coronavirus.  In Japan, we would wash our hands a bit more, follow the news a bit more and had become more aware of the masks we never wore as we rode the trains.

But that Thursday, I thought to myself, “Holy crap.  This is a big deal.”

Steve’s work was ramping up (since he works for 3M and those N95 face masks you keep reading about are in his portfolio) but everything else was business as usual.  So, this school closure felt like a proactive opportunity for the country to nip the virus in the bud in an effort to save our precious 2020 Summer Olympics.

But, I thought to myself…if school closes, what will close next?  Could I be home with the boys for a month with no adventures had?  I knew our incredible community would bond together, but at the end of the day I would be stuck in our apartment with two young kids and a husband working 24/7 from home. Therefore, I decided to head back to the states a few weeks prior to our previously scheduled Spring Break to see our families.  

As casually as I say that, this decision involved me telling the boys I couldn’t tuck them in as I had to book flights NOW to leave in less that 24-hours in a scramble to get out before borders were blocked and ticket prices skyrocketed.  In hindsight, kinda dramatic maybe, but in that moment, my reality.  I was also heartbroken to leave Steve, but as he reassured me, his work was going to be all-consuming and we would meet up as planned in just a few weeks, so it was no big deal.  

The flight home on February 28th was totally normal and totally not.  The airport felt quiet and having your 3 and 5-year-olds wearing masks, which at the time felt prudent, also just felt wrong.  When we arrived in MSP we cleared customs with zero additional checks.  I asked the immigration officer if I should self-quarantine or limit my social interactions.  He asked if I felt sick.  I said no.  He said, in that case to live as I normally do.  Even so, I felt unsure about what to do with our time during our 5-hour layover as my boys begged to go to the Mall of America and I was acutely aware my son was wearing his American School in Japan T-shirt he had put on that morning.  In the end, we hunkered down at the airport and waited to hop our next flight.  

At midnight, we landed at RDU.  My parents picked us up and we went back to their house, glad that a draining February 29th only comes once every 4 years.  Over the past 14 days, life here has been strange.  Here’s why:

“We’re from Minnesota”

As I casually chat with a mom in the park or my parent’s neighbor, when they ask where I am from, I quickly find myself saying Minnesota.  I don’t tell people we are here from Japan, as it feels so riddled with heaviness and we have the privilege of quickly disappearing into the fabric of this country.  

Social Distancing

I am so aware of our daily interactions.  My parents live in a community with a large 60+ demo so we aren’t having lunch at their clubhouse.  My mom canceled her women’s group meeting at their house.  I am not attending my Dad’s “Golden Age of Rock Music” class he is teaching at Duke, even though I soooooooo wanted to go.  We are making decisions to limit our interactions with others in mind.  In fact, our 14-day cocooning period ends today, but it happens to correlate with the exact time it is most prudent to keep that social distancing going.  Inhale.  Exhale.

Homeschooling

My parent’s office is now our satellite school.  Every day at 9:00am I sit down with one kiddo at a time - Anders first on odd days and Chase first on even days - and we do school together.  The boys being so young at this time is both a blessing and a curse.  While it is hard that they are so dependent on me, the upside is they don’t need much desk time other than a focus on creativity, math and reading.  I spend about 1.5 hours with Anders and 1 hour with Chase and from there we are off to world school, which I have a feeling will quickly transition into forest school.  If they aren’t feeling something, I let it slide.  I am trying my best to make the experience positive and find teaching moments in our everyday lives.  Weirdly, we have found a beautiful groove and look forward to this uninterrupted time together each morning.  (Shout out to my parents for helping this be such a positive experience by watching one kiddo, so I can focus on the other.) 

Being “Home”

My parents have been absolutely amazing since we returned.  They have continued on with their lives (mostly) and with my rented car, we continue on with ours.  Having them for support has been a lifesaver, but I am also 42, unemployed and living at home with my 2 kids.  Not ideal - especially, since I already fell in love with my High School Sweetheart, so this saga won’t end like a traditional Hallmark movie.  The reality is, we are in a town where I don’t know a single soul and if life continues on here, both the boys and I are going to need to make some friends.  Wouldn’t you want to be friends with a girl from Japan, who is just here temporarily too?

The Input

While in Japan, I would say how hard it was to not understand more.  Now, coming back to the states, I am overwhelmed.  The news is so fear-driven and I can understand every conversation I eavesdrop on where people worry and hoard and place importance on themselves over the greater good. After living in Japan, I see how beautiful a community driven society is and how comforting it is to be there at a time like this.

The Boys

We have been completely transparent with the boys on what is happening.  We lay out the facts.  We share no fear.  We explain why things are happening as they are.  We disclose why we aren’t going to the places we usually go to.  We have established a new routine and they know Steve isn’t here, cause he is a helper getting face masks to healthcare workers so they can be protected.  We control the narrative and it is one of truth, love and optimism.  

Uncertainty 

The only thing certain is uncertainty.  As of yesterday, Steve was planning to travel home on March 19th to keep up with our planned Spring Break travel.  As of this moment, we don’t know if that’s the best idea.  Is it wise for Steve to travel to see his Dad who is currently battling Stage-4 cancer?  Will the US allow Steve to meet us when he flies in without a mandatory 14-day self-quarantine?  Will Japan allow us to come back home together on March 28th?  Will we be quarantined when we arrive back in Japan?  Will school start back up on March 30th?  If not, where do we go?  Do the boys and I stay in Minnesota without Steve?  Do we stay with my parents?  Do we head back home to Japan?  Do we travel to Hawaii where Steve is closer to the Japan Time Zone, but we are still in the US together, with the great outdoors at our finger tips?  But community, oh community - I am nothing without community.  And this damn virus creates a moment in time when we need community more than ever, yet the way it spreads is through connection, so what a befuddling conundrum to be in.

But even if we aren’t all together in one room, we are all in it together.  In a way, me writing this is my way of saying - yep, I’m right there along with you.  Just as confused, just trying to do my best, just like you. My hope at this time is that everyday I make the best choices I can, with the limited information I have.  I get comfortable with what I don’t know.  I give gratitude for what we have and the moments of joy throughout the day.  And I know no matter what happens I am going to stay optimistic, which doesn’t mean that everything is going to turn out ok, but is my way of knowing I will be ok no matter how things turn out.