Turning Into My Mother-in-law

One of my favorite stories about my mother-in-law is when I came to her house one afternoon to find her in tears. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, “Sally died.” I shifted automatically to sympathy mode, wanting to comfort her in her grief, but then I finally asked, “Who is Sally?” “She’s on my show,” was the response. A longtime fan of daytime drama, Myrtle was broken-hearted that one of her soap opera friends had passed away. 

 

After more than eighteen months of the isolation that has come with the pandemic, I think I’m turning into my mother-in-law. I base that assessment on the depth of my excitement as my television friends return to my living room after a long summer break. Olivia, Fin and Rollins are back in the special victims unit, my Chicago friends are hard at work at the hospital, fire house and police station, and Leroy Jethro Gibbs has been saved from a fiery death as his beloved boat exploded on NCIS. The Reagan family is finally gathering together around their dining room table, so all is well with the world – the Blue Bloods are watching out for us. Now if the Pearsons can get their act together (This Is Us), I’ll be a happy camper – or is it snowman?

 

Yes, I’m one of those people who still watches dramatic series on network television. I’m not big on movies, don’t bother with Jeopardy!, and can barely navigate Hulu or Netflix. But if Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler are on television, I’m watching – in real time. I know I could catch today’s episode tomorrow or next week, but there’s something ingrained in me that  heads to the television at 9 p.m. on Thursday to check in with my friends. I’m OK with that, but when I start bringing bowls of ice cream over to the couch at 10 p.m. as my mother did every night for years and years, schedule the intervention.

 

Two take-aways from this for me. The first is that the pandemic has put a damper on much of the routines we practiced for years. Whether it’s Wednesday night Bible study, bowling league on Tuesday evening, friends at our Sunday dinner table, Monday band practice, or a cup of coffee with a friend on the spur-of-the-moment, we’ve missed the routine activities that provided a weekly rhythm to our lives. 

 

Here’s the other part. As the pandemic has progressed, we’ve found ways to protect connections with those closest to us, but many of the casual friendships we’ve enjoyed over the years, from that weekly Bible study or the PTO meeting, still haven’t returned to what they were two years ago. Social media helps us keep in touch, but it’s just not the same as seeing someone in person. 

 

Rhythms and relationships – both are essential elements that define our humanity. The pandemic has brought devastating consequences to so many, but it has also disturbed the rhythms of our days and stripped away the unexpected joys that come to us through relationships. No wonder we feel out-of-synch. 

 

As I was plotting out these words in my head, I caught a glimpse of my hands in the mirror, and in a heartbeat, I saw my mother’s hands – just a bit plumper. For one brief shining moment I was my mother – and my mother-in-law. I’d write more about that revelation, but Blue Bloods is about to come on – I might as well embrace that transformation and grab two bowls of ice cream on the way to the couch.