The Inside Press

Magazines serving the communities of Northern Westchester

Family

Danielle’s Dreams: Sprinkling Joy Through Art and Adventure

by

On an early summer day in 2019, Danielle Leventhal stepped into room 205 at Seven Bridges Middle School in Chappaqua. Danielle, a 2012 graduate of Horace Greeley High School, had attended Seven Bridges, as did her younger brother Alex. 

In a story that embraces the remarkable twists and turns of fate, Danielle was returning to Seven Bridges–on her actual 25th birthday–to speak to Brian O’Connor’s fifth grade class as a part of his curriculum on the CNN Heroes program. 

Brian O’Connor’s Seven Bridges Middle School teacher’s wall of CNN Heroes

Celebrating Heroes

For 12 years, O’Connor’s social studies class has watched CNN Heroes and discussed the 10 everyday heroes and their amazing accomplishments. Students then write a letter to one hero, sharing how they were inspired by their story. “We have sent out 5,000 letters in the last 12 years,” says O’Connor, who will teach the program for the 13th time this year. Many heroes write back and have even come into the classroom to meet the students and share more of their story. 

CNN’s production team got word of O’Connor’s program and visited the school to film a three-minute segment for their 10-year anniversary special. O’Connor attended the live event at the Museum of Natural History in New York. There he met and connected with Brad Ludden, a 2016 Top 10 CNN Hero and the founder of First Descents, a non-profit organization that provides life-changing outdoor adventures for young adults impacted by cancer. 

Jennifer Leventhal (Danielle’s mother) had stayed in touch with O’Connor over the years. When she saw the segment, she reached out to offer congratulations. “Jennifer also shared that Danielle had been diagnosed with cancer, had gone through treatment, and was going to take part in a First Descents program,” says O’Connor. O’Connor later invited Danielle to come to speak to his students about her powerful First Descents experience, which is what she joyously did that summer day in 2019. 

Danielle on O’Connor’s wall of CNN Heroes

Diagnosis

 After high school, Danielle, a gifted artist, graduated in 2016 from the Sam Fox School of Design & Visual Arts at Washington University in St. Louis with a double major in painting and art history. She was busy painting and working in the art world when, in 2017 at 22, she noticed a pain in her shoulder and chest. It impacted her breathing on her runs, so she went to urgent care, but the EKG showed nothing. Danielle wasn’t satisfied. She requested a chest X-ray. It revealed a softball-sized mass near her aorta. “Danielle had excellent body intuition and her follow through helped save her life for another four adventure-filled years,” says Jennifer. 

Despite the diagnosis of a rare sarcoma, Danielle had unrelenting hope balanced with a firm grasp on reality. “If you looked at a snapshot of Danielle and her high school friends and asked which kid could handle adolescent cancer the best? I’m sure Danielle’s name would not have come up,” says Jennifer. “She was gentle and perhaps even delicate, but she was indeed fiercer than we, or even she knew and funnier than she had ever been.” 

William D. Tap, M.D. chief of Sarcoma Medical Oncology Service at Memorial Sloan Kettering (MSK) was Danielle’s oncologist. In addition to surgery, her treatments included proton therapy, a radiation treatment used to shrink the tumor, followed by chemotherapy, studies on acupuncture and eventually clinical trials of new drugs. 

Sarcomas are a rare group of malignant cells that begin in the bones or soft tissues says Dr. Tap. “There are some 60 different sarcomas and for each sarcoma subtype there may only be a few hundred to a few thousand people diagnosed in the United States each year,” he adds. 

Because sarcomas are so rare, and because youngsters often have lumps and bumps that are not given adequate attention, sarcomas are often misdiagnosed or receive a late diagnosis. “Sarcomas present with a remarkably wide range of symptoms from belly pain to shortness of breath,” says Dr. Tap. “Honestly, they are easy to miss.” Treating sarcomas in the young adult range (age 15-39) is very challenging. “The survival rate of pediatric cancers has increased greatly, but we need more research to discover how we can positively treat these rare cancers that are affecting young adults.”

This demographic also has a diverse range of needs, worries and concerns, specific to their age group says Dr. Tap. There are questions regarding their education, career, future fertility, and emerging independence. “For well-rounded care, it’s important that the medical team understand these unique psychosocial aspects and how they affect the patients’ life,” says Dr. Tap. 

Danielle was an inaugural participant in Tap’s Adolescent and Young Adult (AYA) program at MSK. The program brings together care experts across specialties along with the patient’s oncologist. This can be a social worker or fertility expert–whatever is needed. “They usher the patient through treatment and assist with the stressors of their diagnosis,” says Dr. Tap. “The program also creates a peer group environment where patients can have meaningful dialogue and combat the isolation the patient may be feeling.”

When Danielle lost her hair, her friends all wore wigs to her 23rd birthday party so she wouldn’t feel alone.

Dr. Tap praises Danielle’s ability to grow with her cancer diagnosis. “She gained an agency and confidence that strengthened her relationship with her family and friends and that was dramatic to see,” he says. Her dedication to help develop the program for others to benefit even when her disease was threatening her life showed strength and resilience, which Dr. Tap says is a testimony to Danielle as a person.

Donut Paintings for Project Bakesale, 2021. Acrylic on Wood Panels. Each square painting was created in exchange for a donation to Blue Georgia runoff candidates.

Her mother recalls an early lesson Danielle took home from AYA. She learned that it’s your journey. How much you want to share is your choice, she says. “If you look at cancer as a slice of pie, it’s a small part of the whole pie. It’s not nothing, but it’s not everything either,” she says. As she got sicker, Danielle shared more. She wanted to create a legacy with intentions of being helpful to other young adults with cancer. 

Sharing opened new doors. One day in New York City Danielle spotted Suleika Jaouad, who at 22 was diagnosed with leukemia and documented her journey in The New York Times column, “Life Interrupted”. Danielle thanked her for her articles and later hand delivered a portrait she had painted of Suleika. It was Suleika who encouraged Danielle to go on a First Descents trip. “She said it would change her life,” says Jennifer, “and it did.”

First Descents

Brad Ludden, a professional kayaker, was in his teens when his young aunt was diagnosed with breast cancer. He took her and her friends on a kayaking adventure and learned that outdoor adventure could be profoundly healing. Ludden founded First Descents to offer healing adventures to young adults impacted by cancer and other serious health conditions. 

“First Descents” is a term used widely in adventure sports. It’s a feat that someone has completed before anyone else and merits respect, as in kayaking white water rapids that have never been descended,” says Emily Burick, First Descents development officer and now an ambassador for Danielle’s Dreams Adventure Program.

Burick says First Descents encourages participants to make the most of the time you have, in the places you are in, and the people you are with. Their tag line, Out Living It, is a play on words celebrating the spirit that participants embrace. 

In 22 years, some 10,000 young adults have gone through the core program, which includes a weeklong adventure free of cost. Adventures range from rock or ice climbing to whitewater kayaking and surfing. Participants develop an unwritten bond and become like a second family and can continue to adventure with peers through the #Out Living It project. 

Burick met Danielle on her weeklong First Descents ice climbing adventure in Ouray, Colorado. She knew her as Donut. “It’s a tradition that everyone gets a nickname. It happens sometime from when the staff picks you up at the airport and you arrive at the lodge, says Burick. “From then on you introduce yourself as that nickname. The beauty of it is that it allows you to assume a new identity and be free.” 

Jason “Buck” asked Danielle which of her paintings were her favorite and she said, “A donut”. She had made many paintings, but her favorite was a series of donuts. The name stuck. 

“Donut was kind, radiant, and joyful,” says Burick. “She took part in everything, and it was not without fear.” The program helps participants learn what they are in control of, and what they aren’t, how they can take on the challenge and how not let cancer define them.

“It was important for Donut to be an advocate for herself and others, she became so involved and that was very characteristic of her,” says Burick. Danielle/Donut introduced First Descents to Soul Ryeders, a Rye-based organization that offers resources, programs and community support to those impacted by cancer. The two organizations have since established a partnership. “She didn’t want her experience to just be about her, she wanted it also to be about others, that was who she was to her core,” says Burick. 

Sharing and Caring

It was in that spirit that Danielle returned from New York City to Seven Bridges Middle School. “Danielle was an amazing role model, she was so prepared, had an amazing presence, and connected with the students as if she were a veteran teacher,” says O’Connor. She was candid and age-appropriate in speaking about her treatments and her ice climbing adventure with First Descents. She encouraged the students to be kind, appreciate family and friends and reminded them if they didn’t feel well, they must tell someone. 

Danielle did not know that O’Connor had a surprise planned that day. He had invited Brad Ludden to Skype into the session and they all sang happy birthday to her. “In my 22 years of teaching that was the most memorable moment,” says O’Connor. “The room was filled with good vibes and the kids were so happy to honor her. I will never forget it, and I believe the students will remember it too.”

Danielle’s Dreams

When the pandemic hit, Danielle devoted herself to her artwork, painting daily and instead of going out, embracing what she called an “In Living It” spirit. 

Danielle passed away on August 4, 2021, at 27 after outliving terminal cancer for four years. 

Her legacy continues as Danielle’s Dreams works to “sprinkle joy through art and adventure” for young adults with cancer. Two programs, Danielle’s Dreams Adventure Program, First Descents and Danielle’s Dreams Art Programs, AYA at MSK, allow you to support Danielle’s Dreams through tax-deductible donations. 

And this month you can take part in a Virtual Fitness Fundraiser honoring Danielle on her birthday. On Wednesday, June 15, 2022 at 7 p.m. Lauren Chiarello Mika, a fitness instructor at Memorial Sloan Kettering Center and founder of Chi Chi Life, hosts a 45-minute virtual Pilates Fusion Class, which is appropriate for all ages and abilities. 

Lauren is a two-time Hodgkin’s lymphoma survivor who has been cancer free for 13 years. She also took part in a life-changing First Descents adventure and is now mother to identical twin boys born in 2020. 

Jennifer and Danielle took Lauren’s virtual Pilates Fusion class in 2020-2021. “I called them the Dynamic Duo,” Lauren says. “Here was a mother and daughter moving beside each other, bonding physically and emotionally.” Danielle made a painting of Lauren and her boys, which she sent to her along with a meaningful note. “I will always treasure these,” says Lauren. “It shows the spirit of giving that Danielle embraced.”

On the cover:
Lieutenant’s Island
No. 2, Oil on Canvas, 2019, winner of the “Popular Vote” award for the cover of the 2020 Wellfleet travel guide

First Descents Virtual Fitness Fundraiser

Wednesday, June 15, 2022 at 7 p.m.

Take part in a 45-minute virtual Pilates Fusion Class, hosted by Lauren Chiarello Mika. The low-impact, mindful movement class is appropriate for all ages and abilities and supports the mission of First Descents. It’s a perfect way to honor and celebrate Danielle on her birthday and offer adventure to young adults like Danielle impacted by cancer.

Your $45 registration fee includes the virtual class and a custom-designed “Donut” hat in honor of Danielle.

Register or donate today: https://support.firstdescents.org/event/danielles-birthday-fundraiser/e402259

Resources

Cherishing Family

by

Family life is and always will be many things to many people, but the powerful connection and bonds forged within our family units–and for me and many that includes our friendship circles, too–is the common denominator. Family is love. Cherishing family, and the children I raised, grown and flown they may be, will always be central to any love I feel, and more so in challenging times.

I also like to recognize the larger family who touch us all–our local and county officials, caring neighbors, health care personnel and first responders who provide resources and actual lifelines in this most unusual year, and every year. Such community resources include the Mount Kisco Interfaith Food Pantry, now planning a 30th year celebration feeding Westchester, and the Mount Kisco Child Care Center which advocates so successfully for families. You can read about both these terrific organizations here too.

Please enjoy all the stories, photography and artwork; our freelance contributors work hard to assemble the mix of stories you find every time, and I have a lot of fun sharing them on the web too, with some help from the Play Nice Together team, and always feel humbled by all the excitement around that. I have a feeling, for example, Lyssa Weiss’s savvy weight loss strategies, as conveyed by Ella Ilan, will be eaten up, with zero calories incurred. Our blogger series continues too highlighting writing by talented writers Kat Nemec, Rich Monetti and Deb Raider Notis.

A huge thank you to Congressman Mondaire Jones for carving time out of his packed schedule to speak with our writer Jennifer Sabin and for later visiting Chappaqua for an Inside Chappaqua & Millwood  cover photo shoot by Carolyn Simpson. I loved the opportunity simply to greet and meet him, and his district director, Joan Grangenois-Thomas, too. 

I also want to thank the lovely John Diaconis for a personal tour of the historic Miller House, and for sharing his inspiring story, our Inside Armonk cover story, by Christine Pasqueralle. Gratitude to Donna Mueller for the photographs of John and his family, and also those of Drew Bordeaux, a mega talented musician/artist, both solo and with his bride and fellow artist Tammy (story by Stacey Pfeffer), and of Adam Stone and his comeback team! at the Examiner Media (story by Andrew Vitelli).  Also, please don’t miss the following story gems (and photos by Carolyn too): Stephanie Spiegel of Centerpeace (story by Shauna Levy), Ian and Lauren Karr (story by Ronni Diamondstein), and Wendy Craft and Evan Echenthal (story by Anna Young). We are also thrilled to include stories by Robin Chwatko. These include one of Emma Freeman’s rising star. And a second highlighting the offerings at the amazing Armonk Tennis Club.

So bottom line: please enjoy all the stories presented by our hard-working contributors–you will find wonderfully warm and accomplished people and families to ‘meet’ and in the print editions, inviting page designs by art director Lisa Samkoff.

Finally, we hope you will read Ronni Diamondstein’s touching tribute to Lawrence Otis Graham; the reminisces and thoughts conveyed come from many corners of New Castle and beyond.

Wishing you well and time to enjoy spring’s glorious holiday and milestone celebrations. 

These being ‘double editions,’ wishing you much joy this spring at your Passover or Easter gatherings, perhaps, and/or for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day too. As an aside, you might wish to take some of those celebrations ‘outside’ on your deck or patio, so do check out Marianne Campolongo’s feature about trends in backyard living too!  We are continuing a quarterly schedule and will see you again in mid-August! Truth be told, I have a little trip planned, and some memoir writing to do with the precious extra time, too. Stay well.

P.S.  Sometimes a single person you’ve never met can make you feel awash with love and appreciation. A celebrated resident ‘vaccine fairy’ for example, reached out to help me with my vaccine appointment. She has helped innumerable others. For anyone who’s having trouble making an appointment to get a COVID vaccine, Christina is happy to help! She has booked almost 600 appointments for eligible NYS residents. Please email her at vaxfairy@gmail.com. 

P.S.S.  The Holocaust and Human Rights Education Center’s “Memory Keepers Story Hour” (see below) continues with three additional April virtual presentations. They always hit close to home. April 5, 2020 marks two years since my own survivor father’s passing. I have told his story in bits and pieces on social media, and hoping to convey a more complete tale of ‘Poppy’ one day, too. Please consider registering for one of these events.

Holocaust and Human Rights Education Center Spring 2021 ‘Memory Keepers Story Hour’ Continues

A virtual online platform created by the Holocaust and Human Rights Education Center and that features Holocaust Survivors, Liberators, and GenerationsForward speakers–a second and third generation group that includes children and grandchildren of Holocaust survivors–continues through April with Kathy Grosz-Zaltas on April 15; Wendy Sandler on April 22, and Michelle Gewanter on April 29. All virtual events begin at 7 p.m. To register, email Millie Jasper mjasper@hhrecny.org for Zoom log-in information or call the HHREC at 914 696-0738.  The Memory Keepers Story Hour series launched in 2020 supports the HHREC mission to teach the lessons of the Holocaust, to promote the right of all people to be treated with dignity and respect, and to encourage speaking up and acting against all forms of hate, bigotry, and prejudice. Its Bureau includes 26 Holocaust Survivors, three Honorary Holocaust Liberator Speakers, and 36 GenerationsForward Speakers who tell their stories from a “next generation” perspective, adding new meaning to the survivors’ powerful stories. Visit www.hhrecny.org for more info.

Reflections from the Precipice

by

On Climbing the COVID Mountain: A Heartfelt and Fact-Based Plea by an Emergency Room Doctor

By Dr. Evan Cohen

As an emergency physician, a husband and a father of two young children, I spend a lot of time thinking about Covid. Where we have been and where we are going. I find that despite all the destruction and pain that we have endured, the future is still ours to create.

Here, on the precipice of the Covid mountain I realize that I’ve gone through all of the stages of pandemic grief. In February and early March it was shock and disbelief. I did not think that Covid-19 would be so bad; it was being overblown by the media. Like Ebola, Bird Flu and SARS, it was happening far away and would not affect me. When it reached our shores and my community in New York, I felt certain that we could briefly quarantine our way out of the mess. As April rolled around, I was angry that so many people were dying. Selfishly, I was even more angry about the sacrifices that my family and I had to make. No more weekend date nights or get-togethers with friends, no vacations, no school or playdates for my children and there were no more escapes to the arcades and indoor playgrounds on those painful rainy days.  

Dr. Evan Cohen and his family

I stopped at the guilt stage during a frightening two weeks when my parents developed Covid. My father recovered very quickly, but as my mother’s illness lingered, I kept seeing her face superimposed onto my patients in the emergency department. I was constantly thinking about the possibility of someone so important to me lying in a hospital bed alone and with no effective treatments available. The worst part as a son and emergency doctor was that there was nothing that I could do other than call her every few hours to make sure her breathing wasn’t labored. After that experience, the Covid-related depression was almost a relief. It didn’t matter much that I am trained to recognize the risk factors for depression and get people help when they need it. I could only feel positive for so long while thinking about all that had been taken away from me, there was no end in sight. I remember leaving an interview I gave on Covid-related depression and feeling so hypocritical telling people how to try and battle the same gloom that I was feeling.

What kept me going during that time was the incredible support that I and my colleagues received from our community. As an ER doctor, I feel like I’ve been trained to deal with anything and anybody that comes through my doors. Having trained in Camden, New Jersey and worked all over the east coast of this country, nothing could shake or surprise me and I was proud of that. Many times, I was so good at separating emotion from reality that I forgot the value of my work. As a heartfelt reminder, our staff received countless letters of gratitude and witnessed several “drive-by” parades organized by the community. The hospital played “Fight Song” on the loudspeaker every time a Covid patient was discharged, a moment that always sent a shiver down my spine! I pray that every health care worker felt as appreciated as I did during those months.    

The summer offered me a much needed respite and life almost felt normal. My mood was tied to the case count and as cases trended down in my community, I was able to spend time with my extended family, take my children to the playground and pool club. I would go days at a time without seeing a Covid patient at work.  Now, with the summer in the rear view mirror and the weather getting too cold to play outside, I’ve reached the acceptance phase, although I’ve had to go through many of these painful phases again on my way here.  

I accept that Covid is real and won’t disappear if we just wish hard enough. I accept that many more people will get sick and die and I accept that there will be sacrifices this winter. I also accept that myself contracting Covid is not inevitable and that I have some control over how things work out.  

Nationwide, we are seeing the exponential spread of this illness come back with a vengeance.  As case counts reach a critical level, the internal calculus we have been doing has changed.  Chances are that any time there is any gathering of more than just a few people, there will be someone in the crowd with Covid. We are back to all Covid all the time. The biggest public health threat, hospital overcrowding, is happening again.  

I appreciate that it seems like fewer people are dying and going on ventilators compared to last spring. The best explanation I can come up with for this is complex but I think is partially related to the amazing work of the scientific community in narrowing down and creating effective therapeutics. Dedicated scientists were able to figure out in short order that hydroxychloroquine, early ventilator use and azithromycin were out and remdesivir, steroids, and blood thinners were in. I feel optimistic about the new arrival of monoclonal antibodies. Despite all of these drugs, the most important factor that I see is the availability of nurses and other health care workers to be adequately staffed to care for the large numbers of Covid patients in the hospitals. This just cannot be overstated for any medical condition that requires a high intensity of care! For anyone that has recovered from surgery or serious illness, you know how important it is to take your medications on time, eat nutritious foods, be clean, communicate with loved ones and be able to walk. One of my health care heroes, a nurse colleague, donated countless hours last spring cleaning soiled patients and feeding them. those being the most essential tools in her toolkit. Those simple but crucial things just can’t happen without adequate staffing in hospitals.  

Now, from standing on what I hope is the precipice, I see two futures. In one dark world, we have not learned from the mistakes of the past. Our Ids control our superego and we do what feels good. After all, it feels good to eat in a restaurant, to hang out with our friends, and to see our families. In this future, I see our schools closing down and my five-year-old son unable to sit still for Zoom kindergarten. I see my three-year-old daughter deprived of seeing her best friend and unable to get the amazing nurturing experience and growth she has been given this year at her nursery school. I see the death tolls rolling up. I see my colleagues in medicine going back into that dark place of last spring. In the other (brighter) future, I see us all banding back together the way we did in April. We can be supportive of each other during this time and simply do better at keeping the virus at bay.  I do not accept that we have given our best effort at controlling this pandemic.    

I believe that to act with conviction, you must first understand your WHY. My WHY with Covid is mainly driven by fear. I have a fear of my friends and family getting sick, of my children not being able to go to school, overcrowded hospitals and of coming down with a debilitating case of Covid just days before I was scheduled to receive the vaccine. I will never claim that my Covid behavior is perfect, but any sacrifices that I make are with those visions in mind. I know that everyone has different motivations in their lives; nevertheless I hope and believe that many of our WHYs are aligned.  

Whatever your goals and motivations, we have a path forward in this together. And, thanks to the knowledge we have now in terms of mask wearing and physical distancing, we can do better. On the other side of this peak will be hundreds of millions of miraculous life-saving vaccines. Out of this tragedy, it’s possible that the Covid vaccines will offer the most impactful gift that the house of medicine has ever given to humanity. 

As the winter rolls in and we get an influx of young adults home from college and a line-up of holidays that traditionally foster large gatherings, all that I ask is for all of us to realize what is at stake and how close we are to being on the other side of this mountain. I hope to see all of you when we get there.

Dr. Evan Cohen is originally from Rockland County, New York and obtained a B.S degree from Syracuse University. He obtained his medical degree from SUNY Upstate Medical University in Syracuse New York and completed an emergency medicine residency at Cooper University Hospital in Camden New Jersey. Currently, he is serving as a medical director and practicing emergency physician in Orange County New York. He lives with his wife and two children in Chappaqua, New York.

 

A Search for Joy in ‘Something New’

by

Contemplating the Holidays Without My Extended Family

One of my brothers-in-law recently noted that the lack of family gatherings over the last seven months has thrown off his internal calendar. We have a large extended family–and it’s the celebrations and gatherings with those relatives that help mark the passage of time and distinguish one week, one month, one season from another.

If ever there was a time that we could benefit from the rhythm and joy of family gatherings, it’s now. And yet, if ever there was a time that we could benefit from staying away from each other, it’s now.

In past years: The author’s extended family at Christmas

So, what to do with the holidays? In normal years, we would host anywhere from 20 to 30-something on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve. Our mid-century modern house isn’t huge, but its open floor plan allows everyone to be together in the same space whether cooking or engrossed in conversation. On Thanksgiving, we drag extra tables and chairs up from the garage, and each individual family contributes dishes and their labor to the effort. On Christmas, the base of the tree is smothered in gifts we exchange through Secret Santa and a hilarious Yankee Swap. I love watching the cousins of my children’s generation curl up together on our wraparound sofa like one long genetic sequence.

We are lucky: there is no embarrassing drunk uncle disrupting dinner. I am lucky: I never feel burdened by the toll of the work because there are so many hands offering help. If it sounds nauseatingly civilized, I suppose it is. I embrace the winter holidays with a passion that would provoke eye rolling among cynics, an association to which I belong the other ten months of the year.

This year with the pandemic still raging and travel fraught with peril, some of our family members are spread far enough away that they might as well live on another planet. My daughter, who just graduated from college in May, will be spending Thanksgiving in Alaska where she currently lives, returning for a week or two at Christmas. My son, a sophomore in college, is not allowed to come home for Thanksgiving unless he stays here through Christmas and winter break. So, we will be empty nesters for the first time ever at Thanksgiving. My sister recently moved to Green Bay, Wisconsin, to be with her daughter. I have two sisters-in-law who, with their families, live flights away, one in Europe. They haven’t seen any of their siblings (there are seven) or their ninety-three-year-old dad in nearly a year.

We’ve had a few conversations about the possibility of mini gatherings of six-ten. We’ve also considered the question, could Thanksgiving be held outdoors? We bought a restaurant-grade deck heater that could warm a handful of guests. But what if it rains or snows? We’re fortunate that our kids will be able to return home for Christmas. But because one will have been on a plane, the other on campus, we will likely stay clear of our extended family in December.

None of this is tragic of course–we are healthy, for now. More intimate versions of yearly traditions are hardly a disaster. The upside: a reasonable size turkey, one less tray of stuffing and more in-depth conversation.

I’ve noticed that my family and friends are careful not to complain too much about their pandemic malaise, acutely aware of the kind of emotional, physical and economic suffering that plagues so much of the country. There is guilt attached to wallowing when others have it worse. But perhaps one holiday gift we can give ourselves and those in our orbit is the freedom to acknowledge how much this has impacted us–changed us–left us without many simple joys, like connecting over a turkey and stuffing, around a tree, or to light candles.

As anyone who has had a birthday in this pandemic season understands, our celebrations this holiday season will be different–or at least they should be. And while they will be stunted, we may find in them something new, and some familiar comfort in their rhythms and joy.

Back to College Reflections ‘The Pause Button’ … and Accepting Change

by

Me, just chilling at home, like I’ve been
doing for MONTHS.

Growing up, I was always that kid who called their mom to pick them up from sleepovers. I don’t know if it was because I didn’t like being away from home or because I missed my parents too much. Maybe it was a combination of both.

It’s funny because I was the one who started researching sleepaway camps and eventually found the one that my sister and I went to. I think it’s because I felt like it was something that big kids do. And yet, every phone call would end with me gulping down my tears, every visitor’s day would end with a counselor needing to calm me down and one year, every night I would fall asleep listening to my parent’s wedding song. It’s okay, laugh at me. My parents do.

When it came time for me to go away to college, I was so nervous. Would I be okay on my own? Surprisingly, I was fine! I mean, I ended up transferring but that’s a story for another time.

Like people say when relationships fall through, I’ve come to the realization that it’s not “you,” it’s me. It wasn’t where I was sleeping over or the summer camp I went to. I am just a homebody. I like having my two feet on the ground where I am most comfortable.

So when COVID hit and the world came to a halt and all college students were sent home, I really wasn’t devastated by the move.

I was made for this!

While a lot of my friends cried and were really sad to leave college, I came to terms with it pretty fast. Yes, I was sad that I’d be missing my first spring in Boston. Yes, I was sad because I finally felt like I found my groove in a new city and was finally enjoying college and it was put on pause. But…

I get to hang out with my twin sister, my parents and my dog? Sleep in my own bed? Not have to shower with shower shoes? This was a deal that I could be okay with.

Being someone that loves a routine and hates change, I found a good system at home that I have stuck with since March that consists of exercising daily, making pancakes way too often and putting most of my energy into my blog (shameless plug for operationhappinessblog.com or @operationhappinessblog on Instagram). Oh yeah, I also had online classes I had to squeeze in. But those didn’t cause any stress, just a lot of snack breaks and a severe focusing problem toward the end.

Initially, I would talk with my friends from school 24/7. It was like we never left. But as the months went on, I noticed that every day it would basically be the same: Hey, miss you! What’s new? Nothing? Same.

It became harder to talk to my friends every single day when there was literally nothing else to say. How was texting supposed to be the main form of communication I’d have with them for the next six months? Long distance is hard, especially when both parties are stuck at home doing nothing.

While I cherish my friendships greatly, if you know me, you know how important my family is to me. In high school, there were plenty of Friday nights where I said no to plans with friends because I would rather sit on the couch with my parents, eat candy and watch a movie.

Well, as you can imagine, there’s been plenty of candy eaten and plenty of couch sitting since March as a family. My parents were no longer empty nesters for a span of six months and I suddenly became attached to being home more than ever.

I was content. I couldn’t relate to the feelings of my sister or peers who were saying they just HAD to leave home and go back to school. Of course I want to go back, see my friends, decorate my apartment and eat from my favorite takeout place. I also know that if we were sent home again, I would be totally fine.

I can’t help but worry that leaving for my junior year of college is going to be much harder than leaving for school my freshman year. Things have changed. The world has changed. I’ve changed.

School is inevitably going to be different because of the times we are in. But I have a feeling that my habits will remain the same, now more than ever…me, sitting on my nonexistent couch because my apartment is the size of a toddler’s shoebox, eating candy and watching a movie with my roommates. Sorry Mom and Dad, you’ve been replaced. But I’ll be home soon.