Parenting During a Pandemic: The Milestones That Aren't

Yesterday, my eldest took his last law school exam.  I thought he said it was today, so I was late congratulating him.  But really, does it matter?  He seemed just to want to get it over with.  He always belittles these kind of milestone occasions--high school graduation, college graduation, culminating concerts, sports events.  Every. Single. One.  So the things that many if not most parents look forward to, I kind of dread.  Because they're just another opportunity to feel that another opportunity to celebrate something has slipped away.  Or been tossed away.

I can't blame any of this on the coronavirus, though I suppose we can blame the virus for the missed chance at least to attend law school graduation in person.  I think they're planning some sort of online something or other, involving photos of every member of the graduating class.  If my son remains true to his taciturn approach to such things, he'll probably just neglect to tell us when this online event takes place.  And it'll be just another opportunity to celebrate something that slips away.

I don't blame my son; he's wired how he's wired.  I can't change him.  I do feel sad that the things other families seem to look forward to celebrating, we rarely do.  Maybe the one exception was when my autistic son graduated from his high school transitions program.  There was a potluck lunch after the ceremony, and a bus driver came up and told me that she remembered driving my son to preschool years and years ago.  Someone had made a favorite dish of his.  And I cried.  I'm good at that, it seems.

But the boisterous, celebratory stuff that other families seem to take for granted?  Doesn't seem to be in the cards for us.  Certainly hasn't been yet.  I'm not counting on it ever being, frankly.  It would just be too painful to be disappointed, yet again, when another opportunity to celebrate something has slipped away.  Or been tossed away.

I thought it might be nice to have a virtual toast of sorts with my son this evening.  He readily agreed.  He suggested 3p.m., and I replied that that seemed a bit early, but not if we were in Denmark, so why not?  A short while later he texted back, saying he'd changed his mind.  And this became just another opportunity to celebrate something that slipped away.

There's the challenge of quarantining.  There's the managing of illness.  There's the anguish of knowing how much pain and loss there is all around us.  Then there is the stuff we inflict on ourselves.  I think for me, at a moment when our choices are so very, very limited, that might be the worst thing of all.