Lazy W Marie

Carpeing all the diems in semi-rural Oklahoma...xoxo

brick by brick

I have enjoyed the best short work week, and my heart is hammering with gratitude and excitement. About what? It’s hard to articulate. Hard to narrow it down. The weather certainly helps. Summertime is glorious here, and finally we are stepping into the lush, gilded season. But this is a deeper feeling than just pleasure or relaxation. I feel that wonderful, elusive kind of joy that comes when purpose aligns with both motivation and resources. No, it feels even better than that. It feels like anticipation without nervousness or that sense of scarcity that often accompany it. Like I am fine right where I am, and also I feel something huge coming.

I love this explosion of color, so much.

Okay.

I walked outside to snap a photo of the shade garden for this post, because I wanted to share the brick pathway with you. The afternoon has been quiet with the newfound heat (80 degrees today with no wind!), barely a goose honk or horse snuffle, so a soft rustling of dried leaves caught my attention. I assumed it was Romulus behind the cottage. I walked forward and stepped up onto the deck then heard the sound again and saw something flash in my periphery. A snake, a pretty big one, was speeding like quicksilver toward me.

I jumped sideways and backwards all at once and also did a back handspring into the herb garden (stuck the landing, thank-you-very-much) to evade him.

Sebastian

This is most likely Sebastian, the rat snake who has lived beneath our deck for a few years now. I did him no harm, though we often dispatch even harmless snakes for being too near the house or chicken coops. I also did not venture forth for the shade garden photo. Speaking of chickens.

Yesterday, the kids paid me a surprise visit, and as always we had the best conversation and delighted in watching Klaus and Bean play outside. All the time, I am amazed by how it feels to relate to my kids as adults. It is a complete and joyful surprise in life, and I would not trade it for anything.

This morning as we sipped our coffee and absorbed about one third of the news, Handsome and I started sketching out plans for two very worthy celebrations here at the farm, both of them slated for later in the summer. I won’t spill the beans yet, but suffice it to say that not planning many gatherings these past fifteen months really had my hostess energy bottle-necking. The relief, the fire hydrant of ideas, almost made me nauseous. In a good way.

We chip away at lofty goals and heartfelt dreams one act or one job at a time. One day, one hour, one moment is all we can ever spend at once. That’s okay, as long as we spend most of them really well. Moving slowly and steadily toward our hopes and best intentions, building our unique paths, is totally fine done brick by brick. This might be the best lesson running (and specifically marathon training) has taught me: See your biggest goal and break it down in a realistic way, then focus on and complete one task, one workout, one mile, one step at a time. Amazingly, they add up, and they add up quickly. Even the hard ones.

Keep at it, friends!

“You own everything that happened to you.
Tell your stories.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them,
they should’ve behaved better.”
~Anne Lamott
XOXOXOXO

may 15th already?

A few days ago, between dinnertime and sunset, my husband and I were meandering around the south lawn when I spotted a dangling bouquet of scarlet red strawberries growing in that narrow, sandy little elbow near the Chinese umbrella trees. I picked a few for us to sample, and we simultaneously exclaimed at how sweet and juicy they were. So sweet! So juicy! Then he finished chewing and swallowed his and said, with complete sincerity, “That’s like a free strawberry!” It’s why we garden, folks. It’s for the free strawberries.

Please enjoy this very typical photo of Meh aggressively smooching Jess:

Speaking of Jessica, on her invitation, I just devoured The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. It is easily one of the most moving stories and beautifully written books in my life, so far. It should perhaps be required reading for anyone thinking of adopting a dog. Bonus points to the author for layering in plenty of messaging about manifestation and mind power. I loved it and cried and laughed out loud and cried again as I sped through the pages. This is the second time Jessica will have read it, and we are excited to sit and discuss it soon. The first time she read it was during our dark chapter of separation, something neither of us chose or wanted. Funny how life can twist and turn and give us myriad ways to reclaim what we have lost.

Myself, I am rereading An Other Kingdom, which I first read the winter preceding pandemic. Its themes and pointed spiritual challenges are even more throbbing neon today. Then, they were exciting, counter cultural ideas; now they are expressions of what so many of us have learned (maybe the hard way?) these recent stressful months.

“My life is either the performance of a deathly liturgy or the possibility of something alive, a liturgy of aliveness.”

The 2021 Lazy W gardens are mostly in and growing steadily. No overnight successes or transformations here, but rather a steady stream of seeds disappearing into the fertile earth and flats of annuals and new herbs here and there to fill in the gaps. I have added six different rose bushes (who am I?) to various beds and replaced two big ornamental grasses that did not come back after the brutal winter. Otherwise, I think all of my shrubs and perennials made it, even the crepe myrtles, hydrangeas, and azaleas. The daylilies promise to be stunning this summer. This year my food growing efforts are very much blended in with my flower growing indulgences. It’s all a big crazy, celebratory mix, is what I’m saying. Especially because I neglected to label much as I planted, what we see week to week is what we are gonna get. It’s fine. My gardening mood this year is definitely chaos and color, with a hefty dose of welcome and abundance.

Both last Saturday and this morning, Handsome and I attended small, local car cruise ins. These aren’t exactly car shows; they are casual gatherings for car collectors to mingle, enjoy a cup of coffee and maybe a free donut. During covid shut downs and quarantines last year, we missed 100% of the scant car events, so being back out and about, seeing friends we hadn’t seen in a year has been wonderful. We made a new friend too, and she happens to live on our road out here in Choctaw! Wonders never cease. She is brand new to Oklahoma, so I am having fun getting acquainted and bragging about my home state.

I hope you are doing well, friends! I hope that your mother’s day weekend, however you were able to celebrate, was loving and happy. I was spoiled rotten as per the usual, and I got to spend quality time with both my parents and my youngest girl (and Bean). Jess cooked a beautiful brunch, complete with a set table and handwritten letter. What’s better than your little toddler baby bringing you breakfast in bed, is your grown woman child inviting you to her house for a perfect meal.

That, and my hopes and beliefs for Jocelyn are so strong and exciting right now, I almost cannot find the words to wrap around the feeling. I wake up every day knowing in my bones that if I don’t see her that day, I am one day closer to seeing her. And my dreams about her are radiant and strong.

For personal reasons, I needed a little reprieve from the writing pandemic stories, but now I am ready to dive back in. Two more are in the wings being edited, plus three or four potential new interviews, and I am excited to share them all with you. Have you enjoyed reading them? Everyone has been so vulnerable and forthcoming. I have gleaned much more from this whole project than I expected to.

Okay. Onward to the rest of Saturday. Thank you so much for checking in!

“Well being is the only stream that flows.”
~Abraham Hicks
XOXOXOXO

she chose joy

Some people have an inner mechanism, like a filtering system, that enables them to see the world more joyfully. It is more than being able to focus on the silver linings; it is more like a universal translator that helps them automatically interpret challenges as opportunities and detours as excursions into unknown, and most likely adventurous, territory. I don’t know whether these people are more often born with such a guidance system or whether they develop it over time, but I definitely recognize them when we meet. Kori McKinney Wilson is one of these people. The great covid pandemic of 2020 had nothing on her ability to reclaim a brand new version of order from chaos. Please enjoy her story.

Toward the end of January, 2020, Kori and her family of five joined their extended family for a big cruise vacation. The group numbered fifteen people in total, and it was their first such adventure together. They had lots of fun and were only barely aware of corona virus news updates, thinking at that time it was akin to SARS and not likely to be a problem in the Unites States.

Several weeks later, the news was accelerating. Kori remembers huddling at her seventeen year old daughter’s soccer game, irritated by the cold early spring weather. Noting her mood toward the weather would almost haunt her later, because soon enough she would be yearning for gatherings with friends and strangers, no matter the weather.

Kori is a dental hygienist by trade. On a Thursday afternoon in late March, 2020, as the office was emptying for the weekend, her boss told everyone to expect to shut down for a few weeks, but that they were waiting for more clear direction from the American Dental Association as well as Oklahoma leadership. Just hours later, they received word that the state was strongly encouraging shut downs but that the final decisions were up to each office. Kori’s dental office decided to close for at least two weeks, through April ninth. She remembers the pandemic feeling real at the end of those first two weeks. They were ultimately closed for a full seven weeks.

The first week of lockdown coincided with her kids’ spring break. Luke, Kaley, and Brennan were in the fourth, tenth, and eleventh grades last year, and skipping spring break led to skipping sports and friends and part time work, too. The Wilson family is a tight knit group, though, so under their parents’ leadership everyone managed to sink in and enjoy it all. They were especially thankful that the weather improved, as it allowed for family hikes at the Wichita Mountains and other outings. Kori also started a daily ritual of drinking her coffee outside on the patio, often urging her husband of 23 years to join her, and this was just the beginning of her beautiful intentionality during pandemic.

The Wilsons’ initial shopping trip for lockdown happened during their second week at home, when Kori realized it was all going to last much longer than anyone expected. She is not a saver or collector by nature; she tends to only keep on hand what they will need immediately and doesn’t mind shopping in small, frequent bursts. This new environment required a 180 degree turnaround in strategy to meet her family’s needs. Even then, she was cautious of buying too much of anything at once, worried that other people would be unable to find enough. She settled on about a three week supply of groceries and goods, leaning on an actual written inventory of everything in their pantry and deep freeze. She wrote a specific plan of what they would eat and shopped accordingly. They stuck to this plan for several weeks, exhausting the bottom of the meat supply even to experiment with rabbit meat gifted from a farming friend, and were able to make just small weekly shopping trips to add to their creative non perishable menu.

Happily, Kori’s enthusiastic and comprehensive menu plan was well received. Much to her delight, the kids even approved of ham hocks and split pea soup! Her family of five sat down for a home cooked dinner every single evening for six weeks solid, and they loved it. Additionally, the kids were enlisted to help cook and found themselves on a wonderful learning curve in the kitchen. Over time, their Dad Mike included grilling lessons, too.

Kori described their sudden glut of time at home like the most wonderful kind of culture shock. They were so used to a busy sports schedule and hectic, overlapping social calendar, all of which was fulfilling, but this was a welcome pace. They all not only loved each other; they liked each other. They enjoyed each other’s company and really hunkered down with a sense of affection and adventure.

When it became evident that the kids would have quite a bit of extra time at their disposal for the foreseeable future, Kori seized the chance to amplify their life experiences and supplement their curriculum. She brainstormed a series of home-centered projects that did more than fill the time; they helped her children chase after learning experiences they could never indulge in at school. The list included meal prep, woodworking and painting, gardening, and physical fitness and leadership. They also took time to learn more deeply about social issues, taking cues from so many weighty current events last year and fantastic docu-series available online. She saw the “finality” of her older kids growing up but also the glittering opportunities of being together now.

They tackled woodworking projects which Mom designed. Dad taught them to use power tools safely, they did the building themselves, and they sanded and painted their finished products.

They all learned to cook full family meals, and Brennan especially discovered a new level of appreciation for the planning and effort that feat requires. They posted their weekly menu to Facebook and enjoyed both encouragements along the way as well as an incoming flood of recipe suggestions, things they “just have to try.” Kori is flirting with the idea of printing the recipes they tried into a “Quarantine Meals” family scrapbook for the kids.

They designed a raised garden bed and did all the studying to understand ecosystems, carbon emission, photosynthesis, and more, before growing their own vegetables. They hauled dirt, propagated their own seeds, and tended everything. This project turned out to be one of Kori’s personal favorites, “because everybody was involved in it,” and she expects to continue growing a garden together every year.

To keep everyone physically active in the great vacuum of team sports, Kori enlisted the older two kids to design a five-week fitness regimen for everyone. The whole family joined in all the workouts! “It was good for them,” she said cheerfully. Kori and Mike were pleased to discover that while the kids outdid them in all other activities, they had more stamina with the jump rope than the younger generation, ha!

The more I heard about their ongoing adventures, the more I see how much of a gift this entire year has been for their family. She may have jokingly called it “Jesus Take the Wheel Home School by Kori,” but that implies desperation she just does not seem to possess. The rhythm and momentum she kept was clearly joyful. Indulgent. Life-affirming.

Her husband Mike works for the FAA and had already been keeping remote office hours, so having a full house was a small adjustment for him during work hours. But overall the family thrived. They also had no problem wearing masks on the few occasions they left the house. Kori’s perspective on masks as a dental hygienist means she wore them almost by instinct, even before they were mandated. She did express compassion for people who maybe found masks too uncomfortable to wear outdoors in the heat of Oklahoma summer.

The more Kori and I chatted, the less I was surprised to hear that she didn’t really have a stress snack. It almost sounded like a foreign concept to her when I asked about it! She expressed with total believability that she has “felt lucky and healthy together, content.” No need for stress snacks.

Managing school in the midst of a pandemic was challenging, but Kori’s kids all rose to the occasion, as did the Moore school system where they attend. Brennan and Kaley, then junior and sophomore, found solo, home based academics easier in some ways. They are both naturally good self managers, and the school administration had established a grades freeze that prevented anyone’s average form slipping too far (not that they needed that insurance). The work they did from home was almost optional, but they still did it, allowing Kori to take a more passive approach with supervising them. It all served to condition them both for this school year. Kori was excited to share that Brennan and Kaley have now plunged into concurrent enrollment at the nearby community college and Brennan has earned a two year scholarship. Congratulations!

Luke, in fourth grade when pandemic hit, also benefitted from the insurance of a grades freeze but was more enmeshed in a structured curriculum than his older siblings. The teachers worked hard to quickly produce thick packets for six weeks’ worth of learning at a time. They also coordinated weekly Zoom meetings, both required and optional. It was a lot for a ten year old to manage, but he had all the help he needed at home and has done well every step of the way.

Kori is thankful for how the schools responded to the time crunch, the safety concerns, and the unique challenges the kids faced last year. This year, she is impressed by the investments being made for air filtration, the detailed efforts everyone continues to make to keep kids in pods and at a reasonable physical distance, and more. All three kids are back in the classroom now, they feel safe, and they are happy to be with their friends at least a little bit.

Limited socializing last year affected the entire family. They took quarantining seriously and were judicious about the few times they did choose to see people in small gatherings or outdoors, maybe occasionally regretting a choice based on what they learned after the fact about other people’s exposure, etc. The same dilemmas many of us have faced. The kids missed their friends. It was perhaps hardest on Brennan, who is normally always on the go. Kaley coped with the solitude a little better, slipping “into her element,” at least for the first month. She is an avid reader and is good at setting a variety of goals for herself, so she made good use of the hours and days. Luke, the youngest, was at that perfect age to truly enjoy the whole family being home together. By the end of summer, Kori said, he was ready to see his friends again.

Mike and Kori missed their friends, too, and they simply craved time with a variety of loved ones. They have close couples-friends who had to be extraordinarily careful because of the vulnerable, elderly family members in their care. The Wilsons also have friends with whom they had one get together last May but not since, and that feels especially strange because those people only live ten minutes away. Mike’s best friend lives next door, and their relationship has had to adjust. Kori had reconnected with friends from school and had fun with her best friend, a memorable girls’ day in Midtown OKC, visiting Factory Obscura and more, just before shut downs. Last summer was supposed to be their summer of fun. They all had such “grandiose plans,” as Kori called them, “then the world shut down.”

I noticed a strong sense of steady confidence as Kori described all of these meaningful friendships and the outings they skipped. She never once called it a loss, only described it as a kind of pause. Like she and Mike had perspective from the beginning that the time apart was temporary. I find that absolutely stunning, in the best way. So many of us have marinated in grief ahead of time you know?

The Wilsons’ efforts to stay healthy paid off. They all stayed covid-free until later this March, when their oldest son tested positive for the virus as he was being admitted for knee surgery. His symptoms were minor and allergy like, and thankfully they resolved quickly; but Kori made him quarantine for a few days, in his bedroom away from the family. He couldn’t believe that, ha! When he felt good enough to go out again, he drove himself to get tested. He was virus free again, and yes, his knee surgery was successful.

One of the most fruitful learning adventures they took together might have been the ongoing discussions about politics, social issues, and history. Among other things, Kori pressed her oldest two children to watch RGB and learn more about Thurgood Marshall. They explored complex social and racial issues and generally reinforced an open family dialog about difficult topics. She talked to me about how she and Mike wanted their kids to learn to use their own voices. They “liked to be on the same page, but you can come to your own opinions.” They worked all year, using current events in the news, to teach the kids to have an ever widening world view. “Your experience isn’t everyone’s experience,” they tried to reinforce. It felt like something much better than tolerance; it felt to me like grassroots love for your neighbors, both seen and unseen.

Kori and I spoke on the phone one year and two weeks after the cancelled spring break that started it all. Mike has not returned to the FFA building yet, but Kori has been back at the dentist’s office for several months, and the kids are now back at school. Everyone is healthy and happy, on their way to being fully vaccinated, and living life fully in this chapter.

I asked what new habits and rhythms might carry over into post-pandemic life. There is a family consensus that life is returning to normal, getting busier in good ways, but Kori was happy to share that they are still enjoying movie and game nights. Maybe not as many as during pandemic, but they had gotten a little burned out on those anyway, ha! Still, they are definitely enjoying more than before. They make time for each other now and realize how precious and genuinely fun it is. The kids continue to request family dinners, too, sometimes including Brennan’s new girlfriend. They have all come full circle back to soccer games, part time jobs, and some socializing.

For such a beautiful, life filled year, I felt wistful on Kori’s behalf, noticing that it was mostly over. I asked her, will she miss it? “No…” she answered softly. I could hear the honest, wide eyed shrug in her voice. “I am grateful for the moment, you know? Life changes. That was an opportunity, that’s what made it special. We all walked away with something.” She went on to reinforce the specialness of their year in pandemic without ever sounding overly sentimental, just happy and nourished.

Wow. This stranger on the phone summoned choking tears into my throat.

Her projects and seize the day attitude gave me energy. Her sincerity about accepting sudden blessings gave me peace. Everything is temporary. The hard, the wonderful, the beautiful, the disappointing. And what is true for one family does not take away from what is true for another.

“Our family is in a good state of mind.”
~Kori McKinney Wilson
XOXOXOXO

How beautiful.

let them eat cake

Please enjoy a glimpse into the life of a fairly private woman, someone I admire deeply for several good reasons. I met Lisa through a running group in Oklahoma, but when she moved to Colorado we got even better acquainted online. She is one of the nimblest thinkers, loveliest adventure seekers, and hardest working people I know. She is also tender and careful and funny. Enjoy!

In late December, 2019, and early January, 2020, Lisa was “pretty aware” of the spreading novel corona virus, increasingly so because she works for a firm that provides support for military aircraft. This made her privy to updates early on about emerging travel restrictions and evacuations. Travel restrictions are common in her line of work though, thanks to a variety of constant global threats; this new threat was not initially startling.

In late January to early February, she and her husband Wayne went on a long-planned Caribbean cruise and felt safe doing so but gradually noticed changes. Passengers’ temperatures were being taken, travel restrictions tightened around China, and everyone was paying close attention to the news. Back home after the cruise, the last normal feeling life events they enjoyed were a Roaring Twenties party for work and a Sadie Hawkins dance for their high school-aged daughter, Ella.

Tension about the threat of the virus gradually increased, but Lisa wasn’t scared until late February when she heard reports of the first untraceable community-spread positive case in the United States. That got her attention, and they immediately hunkered down at home.

Career military service people, Lisa and Wayne had years before, in a tour in Guam, learned the value of being prepared for long stints without shopping. She also lived in Moore, Oklahoma, during the unforgettable 2013 tornado, so emergency preparedness is ingrained in her nature. Their home was already well supplied with the basics. As shut down became imminent, all she had to do was take a thorough, pen-and-paper inventory to make sure they could stay indoors for at least 30 days. They could. They even had enough toilet paper, but she laughed (and got me laughing too) while telling a story about a gag gift they once won at a Secret Santa party: A “Tushy” bidet, this kind of bum-rinsing device you attach to your toilet stool lid. So she knew that if they ever did exhaust their TP supply, they at least had that, ha!

In the past, Lisa’s job had her travelling at least every other week. She had already made some adjustments in May, 2019, that had her and many of her teammates planted at home more and more. The more she worked from home, the more she moved from the dining room table to her proper home office. She made the space fully functional by Thanksgiving preceding pandemic. She also furnished it with a new Peloton bike which she uses to stay moving on long conference call days and an eclectic gallery wall of artwork that includes a semi topless portrait of Frida Kahlo. That troublesome little glimpse staring over Lisa’s shoulder while she connects with colleagues via her laptop has started more than one interesting conversation. It is her lean, left or right, that makes all the difference.

When pandemic started, Wayne had already been working from home full time for about a year. They didn’t know it yet, but this and Lisa’s corporate culture shift was all a fortunate lead in to what was coming. After flying home to Colorado on February 28, 2020, she was not on a plane again for almost a full year. To put that in perspective, it was the longest stretch of time Lisa was home since she enlisted in the Air Force at age 19.

People who don’t travel as much as she normally did for work might not realize how many hours every week she would spend in airports, waiting, driving, and shuttling to and from hotels, even as it slowed down. Those hours added up, and they were suddenly all being spent at home with her husband and daughter.

At first, she said, it “felt weird, having so much extra time. I kept wondering if I was forgetting what I had to do.” But she filled the time with reading plenty of books and baking and staying active as well as binging lots of television. She and her husband are normally avid movie goers, but this year, a $20 monthly streaming service had to stand proxy for their viewing entertainment. She said they watched everything, including lots of movies she would normally have passed up.

Most importantly, she realized the time she’d been given to spend lots of time with her daughter. At age seventeen, Ella’s years at home were numbered, so they all seized the strange gift of extra time and made a year’s worth of special memories.  

Gardening was one of the new interests they explored together. Lisa took her interest in growing food and flowers a step further than most, though, by diving in and converting their suburban front lawn to a xeriscape wilderness. (I have greedily followed her progress via Instagram.) She has done so thoughtfully and steadily, keeping native plants and pollinators in mind throughout the process. Lisa is as elegant a gardener as she is everything. She also devoured the Marie Kondo series and acted on all that purging advice. “This is the cleanest my house has ever been.”

Lisa is a wonderfully athletic woman (we first met at a group run in OKC several years ago), health conscious and fit in every way, so I was especially curious about her stress snacking habits during pandemic. Her answers delighted me: Ella made them cookies frequently, and like most of America they made “all the banana bread.” There was also a flour tortilla experiment that sadly ended with disappointment. But mostly, their three-person household discovered an insatiable appetite for every possible variety of cake.

“Oh we made so much cake,” she moaned. When they could eventually visit stores, they bought ready-made bakery cakes, too. They gobbled up standard commercial ones with themed frosting designs, like one memorable castoff they found after the suddenly cancelled March Madness season. Lisa said it was the “ugliest basketball cake anyone had ever seen,” but it was delicious. Once, later in the year, her Mom visited and noticed in their kitchen a bakery cake frosted with “Happy Birthday.” She inquired, whose birthday had she missed? “No one’s, Mom, we just like cake!” I had to ask Lisa which flavor combination became her favorite, after so much indiscriminate sampling and experimenting. It turns out this elegant woman has a shameless affinity for the common, cheap, fluffy white cake with the too sugary, butter cream style frosting.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

Ella’s high school in Colorado faced all the extreme challenges we have all heard about from around the country, but Ella harnessed the bizarre circumstances and put them to work for her. Spring Break 2020 bled into lockdown, which evolved into a remote teaching environment that was perfect for her learning style. She is beautifully self motivated, her Mom beamed, and had no trouble excelling in her classes all that spring plus the next fall, 100% online. Ella did so well, in fact, that she did not need the built in grades floor (Colorado schools decided no student’s grades would fall more than 5% during lockdown, and college entrance systems eliminated the ACT and SAT scores) and managed to transfer to a charter school this spring, 2021. From there she graduated high school a full year early.

A full year!

Lisa certainly felt proud of her only child, but then the frenzy set in: College! Her baby was preparing for college a whole year earlier than expected. The gift of extra quality time together was growing more precious every day.

I asked Lisa what Ella wants to do with her one precious life. Apparently, a long mother-daughter tradition of watching Forensic Files and other such shows has kindled in this bright young woman a spark for pathology work. She wants to be a pathologist’s assistant, but not for morbid reasons and curiosities. When pressed for reasons why, she told her Mom, “I really want to give people closure.”

How beautiful. She will no doubt blaze a remarkable trail for herself.

While Ella excelled in academics this strange year, she experienced many of the same social discomforts adults have been experiencing. She has simply missed her friends. Lisa described her daughter as valuing a smaller group, a friends circle based on quality over quantity; but she still has needed to be around them, and that has not been possible. This has been understandably hard. Mom’s advice has been, “Just hang in there,” and a reminder that at college she will be able to magnetize friends with similar qualities and interests.

Just hang in there is the kind of good, warm advice most of us could use at the end such a long hard year. And if Ella is very much like her beautiful Mom, she will have zero trouble finding good people in a few months.

Lisa and her sweet family took masks and social distancing seriously, and they felt safe. They were happy to be “very home centered,” often not leaving the house at all for well over a week, and they used copious amounts of hand sanitizer. These safety measures helped them stay healthy all year, but a friend’s son and several of her team members from work did contract the virus. Her father in law, a Lutheran pastor in small town Idaho, also got sick. He had been careful, so they don’t know how he caught it. Interestingly, his wife, who has chronic asthma, stayed virus free, although they did not quarantine apart from each other. Lisa describes this common phenomenon aptly, like any Oklahoman might: “It felt like a tornado, how it hits one house and destroys it but completely misses the one right next door.” Thankfully, her father in law experienced lingering but not life threatening symptoms and is now recovering well.

A year later, with some things relaxing a bit, Lisa finally went for a manicure. After such a prolonged carefulness, she caught herself wide eyed, thinking the whole time “Is this how I get it?” It’s a minor stress that dissipated quickly. She is also now vaccinated and thankful for that. She and her husband expect to still wear masks on airplanes and in some social settings. Even if she is vaccinated, she said, she feels a sense of responsibility for other people.

For all their romance and domestic harmony, the Petersens do not always agree politically, and this past year has been a whopper for everyone in that arena. Being home together so much more served to highlight those differences. She seems to take it stride, though, teasing gently that, “criticizing your government is the most American thing you can do.” Being home together more also highlighted personality differences like how naturally quiet he is and how much more of a talker she is, at least in a private setting. Overall, the experience has made her even more thankful for what they share.

Lisa was a deep well of insight when we started talking about the broader social scenery during pandemic, how people handled things, and how our government provided (or failed to provide) leadership. She wonders how much better off we would have been had the former administration not been “so ready to paint a rosy picture or make it all feel like a non-event.” She made a vivid point, contrasting the initially minimized treatment of the corona virus against the newsier publicizing of an Iranian official’s assassination. She also described studies and systems in place since 9/11 that were specifically meant for shielding the population from chemical warfare and wonders why those weren’t mobilized earlier. “We have a lot more tools in the box,” she lamented, saddened by how many people died needlessly from the virus.

Wisely, Lisa also acknowledged that we, the American people, have something in our DNA that prevents us from sacrificing our personal liberties for the greater good. Why have so many people not wanted to wear masks and give up their freedom to move about? “We’re not culturally set up to do that,” she said. The history of America’s rebellious nature just means that we will “enforce our will” and fight for our own rights even at the expense of the collective.

We theorized about the World War II generation and tried to pin point what was different then, that so many people did make spectacular and creative personal sacrifices for the greater good. We had a great conversation about this. She is left feeling irritated at our peers, our generation now. “All you have to do is stay inside,” she said.

There is the difference of information overload. Was it a narrower, almost singular news source that kept the nation focused then? Even more so than in 2001 when the 9/11 attacks happened, we now live in a time when so much information is available to us at all hours of the day, and many people have trouble discerning fact from fiction. This seems to have morphed into a bizarre and dangerous kind of cynicism that has kept many people from viewing Covid-19 as a credible threat. Was it an overarching fear of the enemy that bound everyone together then? We didn’t find any good answers, just some frustrations about the mix of independence and selfishness.

How are the Petersens taking stock and looking forward?

They are thankful. They are thankful for their health and safety, for their family’s strength and love for each other, for Ella’s happy trajectory, and for the ways their corporate worlds have thrived under these circumstances.

Lisa shared amazing news about her firm’s recent generous gift: To celebrate a record setting year of profits, the CEO affirmed his desire to invest less in buildings and facilities and more in his people, so he provided his own kind of stimulus and paid out $32 million to his 25,000 people. Amazing! The remote work environment has certainly been a success. Both she and Wayne predict continuing to work from home for the foreseeable future. They love it now and are excited to fold in more living and more travel for adventure as it becomes possible.

Ella missed out on milestone events, of course, like her prom, homecoming, and graduation. They are still brainstorming how to make amends for these. But they are still so thankful for her personal excellence and happiness. Other missed events, like a much anticipated hiking trip to Italy, Lisa is filing away as simply “adventures delayed. It’s for the best,” she says peacefully.

But this is where her real hope and intention for the future emerges, the big lesson she is taking away from a year in pandemic:  “In the future, don’t delay. If there’s not a good reason to put it off, don’t put it off.”

More of that good, warm, solid advice from an old soul in a young woman’s body.

Thank you, friend, for sharing your time and your experience. You continue to inspire me!

“We are a Team!”

For many families, the timing of Pandemic could not have been worse; but for Trisha and her husband Brad, and their two perfect little ones, it came both when they could handle it and when they could use it to galvanize their union. I so enjoyed talking to her, hearing how she navigated the rough waters and came out plenty wet and shaken but definitely stronger. Enjoy!

In mid-February, 2020, Trisha Whitley was already “married to the news” to stay apprised of political happenings, when reports of the novel corona virus began filtering in. She understood it then as mostly a problem in China and remembers having unsettling feelings for that population, thinking compassionately, “…they’re gonna be in masks again.”

Gradually, she noticed the infection reports moving from China to Italy, to the United Kingdom, then to New York, and finally to Seattle. She just hadn’t imagined the virus would land here, in the United States.

Together with her husband Brad and their two young children, Avery and Scout, Trisha spent the first weekend in March, 2020, enjoying normal family activities. They attended an outdoor birthday party, explored an antique sale at the old Crossroads Mall, watched the skies for spring weather, and more. Right after that, everything changed. At their daughter Avery’s preschool parent-teacher conference, the teacher hinted about something big coming, maybe big changes for the school. The virus had hit Oklahoma, and shut downs were imminent.

Brad and Trisha stood face to face in their colorful, open floor plan kitchen and had a quiet, serious discussion about what to do next. Trisha’s maternal instincts were to “feed and protect the kids” and keep everything “as normal as possible.” Brad agreed. The Whitleys’ marital operating standard is always absolute teamwork, and the bizarre stressors of pandemic, even at this early stage, only served to reinforce that dynamic.

Their first order of business was shopping. Brad found a painter’s N-95 mask in his workshop, which Trisha wore to a nearby Crest grocery store to buy necessities. She remembers sitting in her car before entering, her petite body shaking as she fought a swelling wave of anxiety. Less than a quarter of the people inside were wearing masks, and it was crowded in a way she had never seen before. Chaotic. A long line of people wrapped around the entire width and back length of the store, waiting to check out. She turned one corner to walk down the soup aisle and let out “an audible laugh-cry” at the sight of an empty shelf where the ramen noodles should have been. She knew that people nearby heard her emotional response. The gaping vacancy in the middle of a place of such normal abundance was more than just startling; it scared her. That store still had milk available, but it was being rationed.

Then she began to notice unkindness between strangers instead of the usual neighborly, Oklahoma behavior. People were actually showing hatred toward the elderly in the crowd, and the overall vibe inside the store was something she had never felt before. She gathered the food and bottled water she needed for her family and got home as quickly as possible.

As that surreal shopping experience sunk into her bones, Trisha felt disappointed in herself for not stopping to help strangers, especially the elderly; but at the same time she was unapologetic for being laser focused on a mission to provide for her own children. As she and I would discuss in so many ways during this long conversation, “Kids change everything.” Also, this was the beginning of a long, strenuous tug of war in her tender heart, between concern for others’ needs and that deep, immovable parental love. She described herself as being “divided in half, talking in my head a lot so as to not freak out in front of the kids, and keeping the kids happy and fed.”

Once extra food and water were acquired (they already had plenty of TP, which was good because the store was already sold out by then), the Whitleys settled in for an especially home-centered Spring Break. Brad had already planned to be home with the family for their week away from preschool (a tradition they started when Avery was born). They counted this as a blessing and dovetailed the family time into him working remote for several months, past when many of his colleagues returned to their offices downtown. Protecting each other and their children from exposure to the virus was paramount, and together they found myriad ways to thrive at home.

In fact, thriving and teamwork were their guideposts. Having Avery and Scout to protect and provide for made everything scarier, more intense; but having them to love and entertain also made it both easier and more necessary to focus on the moment. Trisha loves being a Mom and discovered more and more ways to feed their joy daily.

A word about the timing of life: The Whitleys moved to their rural property in 2018 and built their dream home. They put down roots easily, and their sweet, young family of four began to breathe deeply. They spread out and luxuriated into the spaciousness and freedom of country life, just about a year and a half before pandemic gained momentum. This particular blessing is not lost on them. Trisha reflected on how natural it was for the kids to be outside, in their familiar setting, just enjoying their life in every season and in all weather. They aren’t missing much, as young as they are. The extra classes out in the world, like swimming and music, can resume in time. Brad and Trisha feel good on the land, too, sometimes chatting with neighbors from a safe distance, once hosting an outdoor family gathering, but mostly appreciating the space and safety of “home base.”

I asked for details about their daily life in pandemic. I know Trisha to be a great home cook, so I was excited to hear what her stress snack was (I was secretly rooting for tortilla chips because she makes a killer hot salsa). She answered honestly, “Marie, you know what? It was wine. We drank stress wine.” Haha! Beyond that, she actually talked about survival food, not stress food. I was confused. She explained:

For a stretch of time early in pandemic, thoughts of sheer survival and the possibility of being holed up at home for an extended period of time had them thinking of eating more efficiently, less decadently (wine notwithstanding). They settled on a food that was shelf stable and hit big energy needs in a small dose: Taquitos. I kid you not. She bought a huge box of them. The kids ate normal, balanced, kid-friendly meals including frozen vegetables, but Brad and Trisha got in touch with their true survivor warrior selves by subsisting for a while on Taquitos, cans of albacore tuna, and Kraft macaroni and cheese. This strategy eliminated worries over what fresh produce may or may not have been available at the store, and it eliminated unnecessary trips to the store, too. I love it.

She also took advantage of offerings from the Oklahoma City restaurant Whiskey Cake. During shut downs, they marketed a clever survival kit which consisted of eggs, cheese, butter, milk, steak, chicken, and bread. Trisha called it “a lifesaver!”

Daily life with a preschooler and her younger brother was full and fun. I could tell Trisha loved diving in and making the most of this unusual chapter, treating it like a true accepting gratefully the gift of extra time with her children at a tender age. And she had lots to say about distance learning, declaring with maternal authority that “Pre-K does not need six hours of instruction/” But she does acknowledge that they thrive on flexible routine, so she crafted a beautiful one, taking cues from the instructors Avery had loved at swimming, music, and other fun classes.

During the distance learning months, their morning started with breakfast and some kind of movement. That was usually followed by a learning activity Trisha had planned, then some reading aloud, and Avery’s virtual class for the day. Then they either played outside or logged onto an online “Cosmic Kids” yoga class and finished the day by Noon. This left plenty of time for them to simply be a young family. It also helped them feel steady and kept the kids on enough of a rhythm to be ready for school once it started again. “As normal as possible” was another of her good and useful mantras.

Parental entertainment was boiled down to great television like Ozark, You, and Schitt’s Creek. She also read more books this past year than ever before, something that makes her proud. She highly recommends This is How It Always Is. Sometimes, after the kids were asleep, Brad and Trisha would steal outside and burn pinion wood in their chimenea for a quiet date night alone.

Trisha gushed so sweetly about her husband and how proud and thankful she has felt all year, that he stepped readily into the role of “ultimate protector.” She said so many times, in the midst of a variety of beautiful stories, “He has been my rock.” And she described how the stress and necessity of pandemic living just reinforced everything they were already doing. They discuss everything together, work deliberately as a team, and support each other no matter what comes their way. They share parenting duties and allow for the ebb and flow of energy. I loved hearing that the collaboration was natural and healthy for them, but I was not surprised. My husband and I have been lucky to call them friends for several years now, and we and feel the strength of their union glowing off of them, like a safe, steady heat. Unquenchable.

Relating to loved ones in the outside world was a lot more complicated than maintaining a good environment at home, no matter how careful everyone tried to be. Brad and Trisha’s determination to maintain social distance invited some quiet conflict with extended family, and it made for some complex holiday and special event choices. From Thanksgiving to birthdays and even Trisha’s youngest sister’s wedding, the decision to attend or decline was never taken lightly. She shared with me that although they did find ways to participate in her sister’s wedding, she is still to this day worried that she “wasn’t there for her one hundred percent.”

In July, Brad’s much loved and young cousin Scott died tragically (unrelated to covid). Brad and Trisha were devastated to not travel to attend the funeral and grieve with family. That is something covid took that cannot be replaced.

Throughout our conversation, Trisha revealed a depth of love for everyone in her very full life. The residual conflict obviously still makes her ache. But she is steadfast in the choices they have made to keep their family unit safe and healthy.

We talked more about the booming infection rates and the fluctuating social dynamics this past long year. All spring, the Whitleys’ efforts to stay safe paid off. Trisha even admits to feeling a bit of pride for having avoided the virus. Then summertime hit, and covid spread rampantly through her extended family. One person after another contracted it, including her parents who very much and understandably wanted to be around their grandchildren, her brother in law who is a small town firefighter and works in unavoidably close contact with others, also both of her sisters, one of whom is a school teacher and the other who was pregnant at the time (both she and the baby are ok). It was a long, tense, scary summer; but thankfully nobody’s symptoms were bad enough to require hospitalization. Some of the family still has lingering side effects, but overall they are doing well and counting their blessings.

In broader social circles and society at large, Trisha watched the spreading darkness and hate speech, the oiliness of fear and hatred seeping everywhere. She wonders, looking both back and forward, about misinformation and poor leadership, the misconceptions we might have about herd immunity, and what is next for our country. We talked about some of this but did not discover any magic answers. It’s all more of that ever present weight and worry. “How could we have done better?” she said, “Have we learned our lesson?” Excellent questions.

Brad and Trisha decided early on to not fill their kids with fear of the virus but just instill a healthy respect for germs and teach them to avoid hugging others. They watched kid-geared educational videos on germs. Convincing other people to avoid hugging their kids was the hard part. (Those two are scrumptious!) Also, their household chose to refer to covid as “the Germ” in a casual, matter of fact way, so as to not create a huge looming covid monster in the world. It is just a germ to avoid, that’s all.

The winter holiday season was extraordinarily difficult for her extended family. Thanksgiving is especially sacred to everyone, and celebrating apart from each other was hard. “Life is so fragile,” Trisha said sadly. And I know she meant not just the flesh and blood of bodily life but also the spirit of bonds and relationships. At the end of the day, though, mortality was the foremost concern. Trading special gatherings for health and safety made for one excruciating choice after another. The guilt of isolating themselves is still heavy.

When the vaccine was first approved, Trisha was among the earliest offered her first dose, thanks to her up to date license to practice as a dental hygienist. She battled more guilt and inner conflict about accepting the vaccine when so many others needed it, but eventually she relented and today is fully vaccinated. To be clear, her hesitation was never about trusting the medicine itself; she knew the technology existed to thoroughly and safely green light the vaccine. She has full trust in the scientific process and the community that keeps it moving. Trisha spoke with awe and reverence, saying, “I find it humbling,” about the work being done behind closed doors, to keep the world safe. “Those people love their job so much!”

Both kids are back to school now, and Brad is back at the office. They all continue to take precautions but also live life fully on their land. One of the best gifts pandemic has afforded Trisha has been extra time to research her own gardening methods, and she is elbow deep in top soil, wildflower seeds, and young peppers, painting gorgeous murals, and making memories with her babies.

Sweet Scout turns four this April. His doting parents are gently brainstorming a way to celebrate with loved ones, maybe something outdoors at a safe distance. Surely they will make the right call. After a year of so many weighty decisions and so much navigating of complex people dynamics and health concerns, the Whitleys’ rock solid teamwork will no doubt rise to the occasion. (I just wonder if they will serve wine and Taquitos.)

“Dig deep in your heart and find love,” my beautiful friend pleads with the world, “Use that.”

XOXOXOXO