The Watsons, Pete and David, are doing a good thing. Something that has been needed for some time. But, in a half-hearted way I wish it all wasn’t’ taking place.
As I’m writing this it’s my paternal grandmother’s 99th birthday. She lives outside Kansas City and we couldn’t travel to be with her to celebrate this year due to Covid-19. She is blessed that she can still take care of herself and can live alone. This has allowed her to be in a protective bubble keeping Covid at bay. She found out today that her neighbors, a couple living in her apartment complex five apartments down, contracted Covid from their school age grandchildren. When we talk on the phone she tells me that in her 99 years she hasn’t seen a virus such as this one. She was born in 1921 in Kansas the year after women gained the right to vote and three years after the 1918 pandemic. Her parents lived through that one. Although my grandpa’s uncle did not survive, dying at the age of 30 with two small children.
I always enjoy taking first-day pictures of the Kindergarten students…some are happy and some are sad, some seem afraid to move while others can’t be still, some speak right out and others can barely whisper their names, some are very near tears and some of them look and act as if they wouldn’t even bat an eye if the old devil himself walked right into the room.
Well, here we are, blasting off on another school year. It has been many a moon since I started to school, but I can still remember how exciting it was. . . all the getting ready, seeing what everyone else had new to wear, getting seat assignments ( we usually knew the teacher, they used to stay for two or three generations once they came here), anxious to put ink in the desk top ink well and trying to draw circles with the compass that came as part of the pencil box equipment acquired from the dime store.