So now what? What’s next? Is this still the first wave or the second? Does it matter? Why do people refuse to wear a mask? Will there be school in the Fall? If there is, how can it be safe? Will our dog understand why we’re leaving the house when we can again, or totally freak out? These are the array of banners in my head. Am I alone? Who else is operating in total limbo right now?

The days blend into the next. School has been officially over but with camp and activities understandably canceled, every day is a question mark. The only worthwhile outings are to attend protests in support of the Black Lives Matter movement (no limbo in that regard). We spend open time standing with black lives. Making signs, and learning. My son is almost five… will he remember this? I hope he does remember this part of 2020. 

Overall though, it’s as if there is no map for parents right now. Not that there ever was, but the start of the pandemic was direct and we behaved accordingly. Since forever, parents have shared a hidden compass, a special parental power that circumvented any limbo and led our days in detail and variant normalcy. Now we have masks and underlying fear. There’s anxiety and I can’t be the only one. I know others are stuck in this place too. Right?

How do we move forward? I know we keep marching. That one is a certainty. How do we face the days ahead, this summer? We personally live in a surging state so for us, for our concern, life is still paused in the social sense. Frankly, we had a single playdate recently, the two boys wore masks and they scooted for miles… until snack time. Then even their six feet distance felt uneasy. It was hard. The kids loved revisiting their normal, and my son didn’t even argue the mask. He gets it and I’m grateful, but will we do it again? If school resumes in-person, will it carry the same relief it always had as parents? The free time for our work, our needs. Can we find the faith to not worry every time they leave or come home? Is it too soon to worry about this? 

We’re collectively caught between two stages. That’s what LIMBO is. Something occurred to me while putting these thoughts into the keyboard. Together we know it’s unclear what will happen next. Together we can submit to limbo. So we reach out, sometimes vent, open virtual arms, spread love, share posts, make signs, send mail, wash hands, and wear our masks. We’ll be miles from here soon enough. Parents know how time flies, and maybe for once we’d all prefer not to “stop the clock.”