There Are Some Aspects Of The Pandemic I Don’t Want To End

by Emily Roussell
Courtesy of Emily Roussell

My son sat down at the piano this morning in his PJ pants, bare feet, and a baseball cap, and he played his heart out. Because he does so every day now. And because he LOVES it.

A year ago, he was pleading to quit. Getting him to practice was always a battle. Our days were over-scheduled. In truth, often they were frantic as we juggled and ran to keep pace with the school/work/activity schedule for a family of 6. When we were home, he craved being “off.” The piano was just one more box we were trying to check during the race of the day. We were running all the time, and often it was on empty.

But the sprint has been taken from us this past year.

And in its place, my little guy climbs onto the piano bench in his PJs and plays each morning before breakfast. He plays during breaks between remote school zooms and assignments. If he happens to be walking past the piano, he stops to play. He plays… He plays all the time these days. And without the rush and the pressure of the ever family over-schedule, he plays for joy!

I’m watching him. I’m listening to him today. He’s made big strides in his ability this year. His hands move quickly up and down the keys. His feet work the pedal. He physically leans in when he really feels the music.

And the same question keeps hitting.

Where do we go from here?

I want to go back to the way things used to be before COVID hit our world.

And, I don’t want to go back to the way things used to be before COVID hit our world.

Of course, I pray for the virus to end, that people’s suffering from it will be done, that people’s hearts will feel the healing of TOGETHERNESS.

But as I listen to the notes pour from the piano, it’s the race we used to do that my mind is turning over.

As the vaccine rolls out and the world slowly nudges toward “back to normal someday,” it feels like a time of great intention. Perhaps we get some choice in HOW we dive back in.

What lessons have we learned? What will we cling to? What will we run from? How do we do less once the race fully opens again? Can we? Will we be more aware? What are we really chasing?

These piano keys are telling a story this morning and stirring up questions about the next chapter.

Where do we go from here?

And… what exactly were we sprinting to before?