What I'll never forget about the pandemic (in a good way)

"I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

Lately I've been thinking about Maya Angelou's famous words, and how they relate to the pandemic. While the tragedy of it will never be forgotten, I am hoping that the anxiety, monotony and yearning for a return to some sort of normal are not what will stick with me or the kids. I am also hoping to repress the fact that we let the kids have eleventy billion hours of screen time. But I am betting that the ways in which our family, friends, neighbors and even strangers have made all of us feel good will be what we remember, in years to come. 

What's on my list:

• The boys' bliss during their weekend sleepover parties with Dave in our basement, aka their getaways.

• The spirit boosts of zooming with people at work and friends on Saturday nights. Shout out to my pals Hedy, Wendy, Betsy and Paola even if I don't someday recall what, exactly, we spoke about. Although maybe I won't forget just how much we obsessed over wiping down our groceries, but already that seems a long time ago.

• How amazing it felt to cut my mother's hair. Mom being Mom, she told me it was her best one ever.

• Max Zoom dancing with his class.

• Neighbors coming to each others' rescue last spring by buying groceries and food when it was impossible to get delivery slots. And that one time a neighbor who knew I loved Trader Joe's alstroemeria (they come in gorgeous colors and last for two weeks) bought me some.

• What an awesome big sister Sabrina has been to Ben.

• The extreme dedication of the teachers and therapists as my children learned virtually, their creativity at keeping them engaged and how lucky I felt to have them in our lives. 

• The Zooms our Girl Scout troop organized with children and teens with disabilities and how much fun everyone had.

• My sister's regular are-you-OK text check-ins.

• Dave, aka DaveDash, walking up the stairs to bring me lunch as I sat in our attic and worked. 

• My gratitude for the mask and sanitizing-product help I've gotten—from our forever thoughtful friend Mike; from the woman I connected with in a local Facebook group who kindly made our family masks; from the lady who made me one out of a treasured old Lilly Pulitzer dress; from the stranger who gave me Lysol wipes at the beginning of the pandemic.

• Max's glee about his Saturday morning yoga sessions with my sister-in-law, Em and how he looked forward to them all week.

• The boys sitting in my in-laws' garage and getting haircuts.

• That one time the Target delivery guy told me the iced coffee I ordered was not available and when I informed him that iced coffee is to me like blood is to vampires, tracked down some in the back of the store.

• The people who showed up on our front porch: Max's therapists; my friend Laura, an event planner who helped with Max's bar mitzvah and Sabrina's bat mitzvah and who brought dahlias for me when I commented on how pretty the ones she posted on Insta were (I burst into tears); the Friendship Circle, dropping off care packages and activities.

• Ben's October pandemic birthday party, Max's December pandemic birthday party with classmates, Sabrina's January pandemic Sweet 16. We all needed those celebrations, and the reminder that life goes on.

Try putting your own list together. I promise, it'll make you feel good.