The Blessing of a Quarantine

It was the Lite-Brite that really proved what I’d been feeling hints of throughout Day 1 of our #coronaquarantine. Today was a glimpse of my 1980s childhood come to life in 2020. Could this global pandemic have the tiniest silver lining that it’s forcing families and neighbors to rewind and go back in time?

Growing up, we didn’t have today’s battery-operated flat screen Lite-Brite (nee the version with an electric cord and light bulb that thankfully never ignited), Netflix, an endless choice of digital channels or, for that matter, anything On Demand back in the days that are now warm memories of outdoor play, make believe, resourceful imagination and nothing else to do. What’s now intentionally scheduled in my kids’ newly developed virtual instruction school day was the inventive, creative play that my sister and I magically conjured up, probably entertaining us for hours and hours. 

I can vividly see the Lite-Brite filling up our dark room: the transparent plastic pegs becoming glittery jewels, the orange 1983 carpet no longer the stand-out design element of that extra bedroom, the darkness enveloping us, and the whole moment of play sparking imagination, sparking joy.

Honestly (and sadly), that kind of play – colorful from the delight, not only from the toys – is not enough of my kids’ standard day off. Our weekends always include family time and play, but they also include running from here to there and there to here and the constant routine of always going and never stopping. Lately, our house hasn’t been ringing the hum of free play. It’s been reverberating the meticulously composed arrangement that is a list of things to do, places to be and people to see. We’ve been on fast forward.

Yet today we were forced to pause from all that nonsense. Today was chock full of quality time together, creativity, exploring outdoors and probably the best part – having nothing to do. From playing outside to family board games for all four of us to watching a movie on the couch to even eating dinner together, this first day of hunkering down ‘just us’ was amazing. Even if it was upon the dawn of quite possibly the most significant health scare of modern history.

Evidence of its magnitude: With a pink stethoscope around his neck, my 5-year-old wrapped up today’s pretend game of doctor by ‘diagnosing’ my husband with Coronavirus. It’s what’s on people’s minds. All ages.

So while I dream of finally accomplishing my Gotta Get Done list and producing the baby books and photo books that I haven’t made but have said I would for the past seven years, and while I try to figure out how to juggle my very full time always on call job while my kids attend school via virtual instruction from home, and while anxiety swirls from headlines and reality, and while I continue to pray for those suffering from this horrible illness, I’m going to take this international crisis as the blessing of the remote control pause button we never had growing up. I guess we didn’t have it because we didn’t need it. Seems like today, we need it now more than ever.