Day One of Four: The Ginormous Van

What an incredible day. Truman and I made it to Wisconsin! Finally in Beloit, I am so happy to have my eyes on and my arms around my girl. Now to the challenge: cramming everything Geneva and her partner own into this ginormous van, which feels too big to drive, yet seems way too small to encompass all the stuff these kids have acquired over the last four years. I just want to get us HOME — and as soon as possible. 

In this uncertain new reality, we are all getting used to the idea that we cannot now come into contact with the people we love who are physically vulnerable. Today, I could not safely visit my three Illinois parents, all in their 80s. They live in Independent Living for Seniors, so there are no visitors allowed. How strange it felt to land at O’Hare Airport, and not drive straight to my mom’s home. And how could I possibly not visit a dear friend of 30 years who has been undergoing an intense treatment regime, a friend who needs every kind of support she can get? I parked outside her house, she bundled up and stepped outside, and then we stood about 10 feet apart and air hugged each other like crazy. What a strange and wistful feeling to have to keep your distance from a beloved friend you want only to throw your arms around.

And then finally, at Beloit College, we are all feeling so sad about saying goodbye to Geneva’s college experience prematurely. I had imagined that Geneva would be wearing a cap and gown the day we moved her out of her final campus residence. During what should be the end of spring break, most of the dorm rooms and apartments now sit empty of students but full of their belongings. Now everyone must leave. The virus struck our country so quickly; of course all the students had intended to return. Nothing is normal. Nothing feels right. 

Tomorrow we attempt our most ambitious day of driving, and straight into a snow storm. As a Californian since age 24, I wonder if I even remember how to drive in the snow. My first day of Driver’s Ed took place during a Chicago blizzard, so I suppose I can handle weather. I’m so grateful for my bestie Mary who flew up from Denver to provide driving relief, moral support, and lots of laughs. 

Meanwhile, we all must flatten the curve! As more and more of us “shelter in place,” I hope your adventures this week are domestic, warm, and at least a six-foot distance from those outsiders who do not share your DNA. I’m thinking about all of you, and hoping we all stay safe and well. 

Nebraska, here we come!