What’s New about the New Normal?

Perhaps not so much (except for the mask)

I was invited to share how the New Normal in our world has affected my life. For introverts who already worked at home, not much has changed: I sit at my desk most of the day with the ever-present cup of coffee next to my computer.

I know some folks are bored. Eager to safely do things in groups, go to restaurants and bars, have parties, go to parties. Not me. I didn’t do those things much before shelter-in-place. I’ve never liked bars or parties.

On the other hand, I was forced to attend my youngest granddaughter’s high school graduation on Zoom. Eric and I were there in person for both her older sisters’ graduations. Ali’s was different . . . I was weepy when her 2 minutes on Zoom ended, and the next graduate got out of a car to walk up to the table to get his diploma. It seemed sad, not celebratory.

I miss my monthly in-person author groups. I miss church. Online church just doesn’t do it. I don’t go. I miss having lunch occasionally with friends. And I really miss the Metropolitan Opera live on the big screen at my local movie theater.

But bored? “Bored” just isn’t in my vocabulary.

I was bored once many years ago. My Grandmother and I were sitting in the dark and cold in my Uncle’s car waiting one night for him to finish seeing his patient. This doctor was making house calls, and we were along to keep him company. I was cold, hungry, and bored.

When I mentioned that I was bored, Nana chastised me. “MaryJo, you must learn not to be bored. Being bored is not a good thing for a little girl.” (Like sitting in the cold in the dark long after dinner time while an uncle made house calls was a good thing?)

I tell that rather bizarre story because it’s the only time I remember being bored. I’m an only child. Only children learn early on not to be bored. I’d been adopted by older parents, parents who had been happily married without children for 9 years. This probably exacerbated my “alone-ness.”

We had a large finished basement, what others might call a “den” or “recreation room.” My parents called it the “playroom.” That was my place to play with my dolls, puzzles, coloring books, and other toys . . . alone. Only books were allowed upstairs or in my bedroom.

I spent many hours every week playing by myself in my playroom. I learned not to be bored and to wait patiently for my Father to come home from work.

As soon as I heard him open the front door, I’d run upstairs and tug on his arm. “Come down to the playroom right now. See what I’ve done with my dollhouse and the clothes my dolls are wearing.”

For the most part, looking at my dollhouse and clothes my dolls were wearing didn’t interest my Mother. And she could be critical if she found the dollhouse not tidy enough or a doll not properly dressed.

I’m not recommending this as good parenting, but I learned to be self-sufficient and not bored. These two traits have played a big role in keeping me busy and patient during the New Normal.

I’m an introvert by nature, and introverts probably fare better in how others might describe the New Normal as a “lonely time.”

I’ve thrown myself into writing. I have a long history in editing and ghostwriting for others. Now I’m writing for myself. I can’t stop. It’s an obsession. I’m Loving it!

I post every day on Medium and get that post in Illumination. Would I be so consumed with writing if not confined to my office because of the virus? I’d like to think so.

I’ve got two memoirs in the works: a memoir involving my birth father and his family. He died on D-Day from Nazi gunfire after jumping from a C47 into a forest in Normandy. An actor played him in Steven Spielberg’s HBO series Band of Brothers.

It’s also a story about my birth-mother and her family. She worked at the Hanford Nuclear Facility while her paratrooper boyfriend was in the Army.

The second memoir, Growing Up Adopted: Love Wounded, focuses on life with my adoptive family. And I’ve also got an eBook in the works: Oh Look . . . There’s a Squirrel and Other Stories. (A compilation of stories from Medium.) A second eBook compiled from my stories about writing and how to write well is also in draft: Readable Writing Rocks.

You’ve probably guessed I have raging ADHD. No “normal” person would have four books in the works at once.

Of course, the downside to the New Normal, in addition to my granddaughter’s graduation on Zoom, is wearing a mask when I’m not sitting at my computer and close to coffee.

And there’s the fear of the virus. Because of my age and chronic respiratory problems, I’m considered high risk. I worried at first, especially when some suggested letting old folks die. I’m not so worried now. I am white. I have excellent health insurance. I am privileged.

Perhaps the worst of the New Normal is the uncertainty. How long will we wear masks when not sitting at our computer with a cup of coffee while writing our latest post for Medium?

I was adopted from the Colorado State Home for Neglected and Dependent Children. Read the story and those of my birth mother and birth father.