Savor the Moments: A Letter from Myself to Myself

May 2021

Dear Alexandra,

I know you are wondering how you could possibly be reading a letter dated May 2021, so I’ll explain. This letter is from the future, from next year at this time, and I’m your future self, writing to you because I know you need to read this in May 2020.

I’m sure you’re eagerly hoping this letter will tell you all the details about life over the past year – who was elected President, when did the kids finally go back to school (will they really be wearing masks and sitting 6 feet apart?), if the economy recovered and how soon, if your relatives are well and safe. I can’t share these answers with you, but I can tell you that it took a while after COVID-19 for life to get back to normal, albeit a new normal. School has changed, shul has changed, recreation has changed, and thankfully you’ve settled into a comfortable routine. You know the drills. Worldwide, the complaining and protests have ended; this is now life as you and the rest of the world know it.

The reason I’m writing to you (actually, to me) is really to give me, Alexandra in 2021, the chance to look back at the past year and to share with you — as you are living through it — how it appears from afar. This letter embodies the gift of hindsight. It’s my gift to you to remind you of how well you’re actually faring. Because I know you need that reminder right now.

Let’s first reflect on your first foray into the New Normal: Remember when you made Pesach in the middle of a pandemic? Of course you do, it was the first time you made Pesach in 16 years! And remember when you had to stop having your cleaning lady? You thought that was such a big deal. Remember the first time you and the family ventured out for a walk and were avoiding people like the plague, the color coordinated daily schedules you created with the kids that included things like yoga, zoo videos and diamond art, and the excitement the night before starting Zoom lessons? And don’t forget the first time you ran out of toilet paper, and your first cloth mask, the one your friend made for you. It was all so new, and with newness comes a sense of anticipation. Now you look back at those moments with a chuckle – and a sigh.