About a month into the orders that have kept us closer to hearth and home than usual, my mom was enjoying a warm afternoon on her front porch. As a family was passing by, she heard a young boy say, “See, Mama, that’s the kind of bike you need!”. He was pointing at a rider on a bicycle very much like my mom’s own, which was never really right for her and had barely been used. She called out, “Do you need a bicycle?”. A socially distanced conversation was had. She opened her garage like Monty Hall showing what’s behind Door Number 3 and the bike now belongs to a mother of four who needed it. I’m not sure if they ever even exchanged names. Just thanks and smiles and good feelings all around. My favorite part of this story is how that kid must have felt like he was magic, saying the thing out loud and it happened, just like that. Presto magnifico!

Sixteen hundred miles northwest of that exchange, kids on my block from kindergarten to high school seniors to college freshmen transitioned to home schooling and online classes. The preschool teacher up the block and the high school teacher next door started teaching from home. The nurse down the street told me that trying to homeschool her kindergartner and keep him occupied all day was more challenging than her job on the cardiac floor of a local hospital. These are just three of the mothers among my friends and neighbors who are meeting the day-to-day demands of their jobs and families with grace and humor and a lot of heart.

Sheltering in place has not been a hardship for me. Something my mom, those three moms on my block and I have in common is the security of home ownership. Clearly, being a homeowner is not a source of security for everyone right now. Households of any number with lost income and limited mobility have myriad concerns. Countless renters have a wide range of fears and insecurities about their futures, immediate as well as long term. I grew up living in apartments with my single mom, her mom, and my brother. This pandemic in that time would likely have been extremely detrimental to us. Working in our favor was a large extended family who would not have let us go hungry and unsheltered. There have been plenty of other times in my life when this situation would have been devastating. Today, however, it’s not.

My deep gratitude goes hand in hand with my desire to help where I can and that has been sticky. Donations, supporting local small businesses, and simply being available to listen are necessary, to be sure, but I miss the more “hands-on” kind of helping. I want to substitute teach for my kindergartner pal down the block. We’d have a blast. Nope, can’t do that. I miss my Monday afternoons at The Beacon. My admiration for those who have continued to show up to provide meals, facilitate showers, run the computer lab, sort mail, and otherwise serve those experiencing housing insecurity fills my heart every day. For now, like my mom from her porch, I’ll reach out from my own front door and figure it all out as we go.

When daily life first started downshifting, I was at varying stages of a few transactions, working with buyers who are comfy in their new home and sellers who are currently each under contract and well on the way to closing. There’s always plenty to do “behind the scenes” and it has made sense for me to lie low, so to speak. That doesn’t mean I’ve stopped working; I’m just waiting to take the next indicated steps. In the meantime, I’m checking in with this conversation starter and looking forward to engaging with all of you.

Take excellent care of yourselves and one another. xo