How appropriate those two words are this week.

This week was a struggle for most of my community. I use the term“community” because it’s the only way I know how to encompass it, even though I don’t love the word.

I happen to own a couple of businesses in a small community; one brick and mortar, one in an open field and I am also employed at a family-run/loved athletic club.

All of these “work” avenues allow me to follow and reach a lot of people through social media, but also like most of you, I have a number of different text threads on my phone that I keep close to my heart ( ❤️ you know who you are).

Let’s talk about virtual/homeschool for a hot minute. (Just FYI…right this second, as I type this, the district is calling my phone, which will likely be followed up with a call to our land line, an email to me, my husband, our son and daughters’ accounts, a text and maybe a telegram by Pony Express (if so, please Jamie Fraser in a kilt on a big horse).

COMMUNICATION…ugh

While mostly the Ripps have kept their blonde/gray heads above water, we all exhaled a sigh of relief when we shut our Chromebooks down and cleaned up our respective desks (not like us) for the weekend.

My MacBook is still very much open.

And even though I’ve thought about writing this all week, it wasn’t until I saw my daughter’s third grade teacher(s) sharing, yes, their struggles, but ultimately, their gratitude on video for the patience of parents and caregivers.

Be still my heart.

Humans are resilient. Every single day I experience the true capacity of care, respect, kindness and acceptance…mostly in my own home, if I just step back for a minute. My kids are adapting and accepting, and dare I say, thriving. My partner in (lots of) crimes cleaned the kitchen and scratched my head ‘til I fell asleep last night.

I am winning.

Although it sure didn’t feel like it when I woke up at 7:55am for an 8:00am 3rd grade morning meeting today. ‍♀️

And, I don’t know what “this” is, except that my empathetic heart yearned to do something:

• I cried for those 3rd grade teachers that did their best all week by my kiddo.

• I laughed with my 6th grader when, on a 15 minute break between classes, he threw blackberries at my mouth. I didn’t catch one but challenge accepted for the entirety of the 20-21 year.

• My heart breaks for the frustrated, for the overwhelmed, for the sad.

• I yearn for a real hug; for physical connection with my friends without fear that I might kill them with my touch.

• A break from the solitude; I’m really starting to notice all the things I hate about my house.

But here’s the thing, we will wake up tomorrow.
We will persevere. We’ll push through.
Will we feel better? Maybe. Maybe not.
I guess that’s a choice.

I was so impressed by so many people in my community this week.

I know it’s hard.
I know we didn’t sign up for this.
I know we feel overwhelmed.

But what I’m sure of for sure is that nothing lasts forever.