On an ideal pandemic day, my work scene happens from the couch with my laptop on a pillow, our puppy curled against my hip, and my arm snuggling our 4-year-old as Dinosaur Train blares in the background.
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When our daughter was an infant, I loved watching her sleep. I would cradle her in my arms and sense the rhythm of each little breath filling her body. She was a miracle to behold, and each tiny inhale and exhale was filled with the potential of who she would become.
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In this time of pandemic, one of my friends was struggling to be a good parent, teacher, and spouse. Her therapist told her: “Right now, there are no life awards, only attendance.”
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