Untitled by Kennedy Conroy (cont’d) Coffee by Izzy Felix

Untitled (cont’d)

until mind-numbing boredom took me by the hand and lead me to appreciate them: wildflowers blooming in small meadows, trees forming canopies over the otherwise blazing trail, and the calming rush of a river cutting through my route. After so much monotony, even a fresh layer of dirt on my shoes felt comforting. There’s a quote by Richard Siken that encapsulates the grounding experience I found in these perpetuated experiences: “ Eventually something you love is going to be taken away. And then you will fall to the floor crying. And then, however much later, it is finally happening to you: you’re falling to the floor crying thinking, “I am falling to the floor crying,” but there’s an element of the ridiculous to it — you knew it would happen and, even worse, while you’re on the floor crying you look at the place where the wall meets the floor and you realize you didn’t paint it very well.” Despite limitations, I found ways to connect with local nature as a means of grounding myself in a time of pure confusion. Human interaction was another beast to tackle, but with creativity my friends and I were able to find ways to show up for each other and try to celebrate the milestones that were so important to us. Whether it be sitting in the trunks of our individual cars to catch up on each other’s lives or dropping off a piece of cake on a doorstep for an 18th birthday, there were ways around loneliness. At one point, and this is almost embarrassing to admit, I listened to my best friend dissect the themes and characters of Pride & Prejudice for three hours while we sat in our two cars. I’ve never read Pride & Prejudice , I never quite plan on it either, but if this pandemic has taught me anything, it’s to appreciate the mundane details of everyday life, because you genuinely never know when they could cease to exist. So, what exactly am I going to tell my kids when they beg for details on my experience through all of this? I’ll be honest and say it was complicated and disheartening at times, but that it was also beautiful and enlightening. I’ll tell them about the feelings of elation I got when I heard my friends’ voices in person for the first time in months. I’ll tell them that nothing quite compares to the warmth of the first time I got to wrap my arms around someone. I’ll tell them to look at everything with fresh eyes and rose-tinted lenses because this world can be a lot to handle sometimes, but appreciation of the fine details can be enough to restore your faith. Plus, if they ever complain about having to go to school, I’ll remind them I did it while the world stopped.