As I sit down to write, I am tempted to say that 2021 was a big step in returning to normalcy after 2020. After all, kids are in school. We both have jobs. It is possible to plan a weekend trip and take it. But part of me feels like normal isn’t happening ever again. Events seem to be spinning out of control, and there are forces accelerating the spin. At least we can take refuge in the joy and comfort of our family. That seems normal anyway.
There are few places in Southern California that enable you to imagine what the land and sea looked like before it got developed, but Cabrillo National Monument in San Diego is one of them. Jenn and I took a day trip there in February and basically just enjoyed the views. From the peak near the statue of Juan Cabrillo you can see the entire San Diego bay and downtown area. It doesn’t take much to imagine the Spaniard putting ashore in search of fresh water and some food. The ocean side is a half-mile of sandstone ledges and surging waves to investigate: urchins, crabs, anemone and octopii–right out of Cannery Row. Even the vast military cemetery we drove through reminded us of those who have gone before.
In May Jenn mentioned the leak in the den bathroom sink had recently increased in volume and maybe I would like to take a look? I wasn’t thrilled, but at least it wasn’t a toilet. To fix a leaky faucet, you are supposed to unscrew the handle, pull out the cartridge and replace the rubber washer on the bottom. It can be a ten minute job, maybe twenty minutes if things get tricky. About eight hours in, I was tempted to sell the house and move to a third-world country with no indoor plumbing. Jenn said that seemed like an extreme solution to a fixable problem. Fixable?! I was facing 1970’s plumbing with rusted on nuts, layers of hard water deposits and stripped threads everywhere! I was using pipe wrenches, hacksaws, hammers and basin wrenches on what should have been a screwdriver only job! Jenn found me lying on the bathroom tile, whimpering among the scattered remains of faucet handles, sink traps and broken hacksaw blades, and delivered the final humiliation, “Should we hire somebody to do this?” (Admittedly, she was only trying to be helpful.) Eventually I bought an entirely new Moen fixture, new inlet lines, new angle stops and then installed them over the next day and a half. This was how I spent my two days off that week, hurting myself and cursing. But now, every time I turn off the water in that sink I think, “Yeah, I did that.”
One of the consequences of Covid was the near total absence of school activities for Claire’s senior year at Pacifica HS. Her sport, cross country, is technically a Fall sport but the season occurred in February and March. To compound the problems, she had a hairline fracture in her ankle and could not compete. We did have an outdoor banquet, which was really lovely. Jenn and some of the other PHS parents were determined our children would not be denied Prom for the second year running. The school would have nothing to do with it, which made Jenn strangely happy. Claire got all dressed up and looked beautiful and danced with her friends all night. After several conflicting decisions were made by the school regarding graduation, we were heartened to attend an in-person event in a football stadium like all generations before. She even got to sit and wave from Dave Kim’s truck in an informal car parade through West Grove that Jenn organized.
Although I was gainfully employed the entire year, it was still a good one for home repair. My father is a great help in these projects, both as a source of good advice and as motivation. When I know he’s coming over, I must have accomplished something since last time. Repaired and repainted facia boards, installed organizing shelves in the garden shed, put new lighting fixtures upstairs, installed a new dishwasher and finally repaired the backyard gate. Again. For the fourth time. Our dog, Bailey, has decided that a really fun practical joke is to wait until we leave, then destroy the bottom corner of the gate and run away. Then she finds a new family, complains about us to get them to like her, and we get a phone call asking us to come get our dog. Hilarious!
For Christmas of 2019 we gifted a day trip to both sets of grandparents, Sherman Gardens in Laguna Beach, with the intention of the visit occurring during the Spring bloom of 2020. The flowers still bloomed that year, but none of us was there to witness it. Jenn called, “Do over!” and so we went at the end of May, 2021. So many quotes come to mind: “Better late than never,” and “I went to the woods because I wished to give charitably,” among others. The garden designers were clearly told to push the envelope; there was a functioning piano covered in moss (we heard a Brahms piece), a hot house with a thousand orchids and predatory plants, and a small house in which all the walls and half the surfaces were plants. We even had lunch in a restaurant, which we hadn’t done in a year–a very fun day.
Only the girls get to enjoy summer now that neither Jenn nor I are teachers. Claire visited her friend dear Mikayla in Tennessee before making a hard left turn to Wisconsin for two weeks. Emily joined her there with her two good friends, Rachel and Regina.
And so, when Fall came, our time as a nuclear family of four ended very abruptly. Over a span of eight hours on a Saturday, Jenn and I gave up both our daughters to a big, beautiful but uncaring world. We put Emily on a plane to Washington DC for a “Study not quite Abroad” program (big step for Emily–three months on her own in a new city) and moved Claire into the dorms at UC Irvine (an equally big step). Jenn and I sat, shell-shocked, that first evening. We tried to fill the quiet with lively conversation, but each of us admitted later that we were very worried. Luckily, we have rediscovered our love of several outdoor activities…and one indoor. Feel free to ask us about any of the outdoor activities, but we are still too embarrassed about playing ping-pong upstairs to discuss it with anyone. We assuaged some of our grief with a trip to Sequoia National Park (before it closed due to fires!) to camp for a few days.
We enjoyed a Raider/Ram game in August at SoFi stadium, which is huge and glitzy and was peopled with the most bizarre fans. I am glad we went; I enjoyed it, but I feel no need to be so overwhelmed anytime soon. Later that month we went to the Hollywood Bowl to a John Williams Tribute which was also a feast for the senses but not nearly so suffocating with spectacle. We had a picnic at the top of the Bowl and watched hawks as the sun set over the canyon, and we listened to a great symphony play dramatic music, pretty good stuff.
2020 took many things away but for Jenn and 3 of her best high school friends, their reunion was not going to be one of them. It may have been delayed and not a formal event but it was all the better for it. Rachel has a lovely new home just outside of Reno where they could have spent the entire weekend talking and eating but the picturesque Donner (yes that famous party) State Park beckoned and they spent a beautiful Fall day walking and talking. There was so much talking! A lifetime of memories were remembered and added to.
Emily being in Washington DC gave Jenn the perfect excuse to finally travel there for the first time. She and Holly spent a week checking off items from her bucket list. They even squeezed in time with Em. Holly was a trooper for walking miles upon miles every day as they checked out the monuments, museums, zoo, and all the famous sites.
Anyone who thinks Halloween is for kids will have another thing coming if they visit our neighborhood. Over the top decorations, golf cart races and sporadic fireworks dominate our streets. And the husbands are even worse! I participate as only a nerdy math guy can; I built a catapult to launch bite-size snickers towards the visitors. It worked well until it got dark, which, as was pointed out, is most of Halloween. Then it was less catching the candy and more waiting until it landed near them (or in JUST ONE INSTANCE, hit them on the head) to pick it up. Fourteen arc lights are my preferred solution for next year, and I doubt any of the neighbors will even notice.
And so another year passes into the memory books. This one promises to be remembered for its contrast to 2020 in its partial return to regular life, and not as a precursor to even more turbulent times. Right? You and I must resolve to make it so. Happy Christmas, everyone..
