An Autumn Reunion

By the time I stepped outside the leaves were on fire, crimson and bright, as the sun burned my eyes. The beauty was breathtaking and I choked down my first gulps of freedom in weeks with thirsty lungs. Quarantine life. It certainly was not for me. 

I don't think I have ever been stuck inside, unable to leave my room before, for two whole weeks. Even thinking the notion seemed impossible just a year ago. But this is the norm that is everyday life post coronavirus lockdown. And knowing I'm not alone, that I'm not the only one suffering, brings me a bit of comfort but also a lot of sorrow.

The reward was too great a reason not to. I hadn't seen my fourteen year old daughter Mandy in eight months. I would endure any hardship, any expense to see her. And this was the ultimate one.

I still remember the last time I saw her. It was mid February and I was visiting her from America as usual.  Of course we had heard about the mysterious virus plaguing China but like many I honestly thought most of it had been media hype. I mean that's what our politicians were saying. Spring was coming...it would all be over soon. The coronavirus would just disappear.

So I hugged and kissed Mandy goodbye as normal, breathing in the fruity scent of her shampoo. "May isn't so far away! I'm coming to see you for Mother's Day!" 

And because I worked as a flight attendant I could offer those promises. And I watched her being driven away by her aunt who she lived with, off to her ritzy private girls' school, and I wasn't concerned. And though a lone tear rolled down my cheek I was as strong and brave as I could be.

I break out of my reverie and inhale and exhale several times. I don't remember if I have ever felt such thirst for fresh air in my entire life. I drink it in like water.

The day is sunny and bright, unusual for London and the slippery leaves are everywhere. I never knew autumn could be so lovely in England. Even when I lived here I didn't often venture into wooded areas like I did back home in rural Pennsylvania. For one, woods were few and far between in bustling London. Or at least I didn't know where to find them. But I lucked out as the hotel where I was in quarantine had a nice park only a few minutes walk from town. 

I never thought of myself as a "nature girl" before I came to England the first time fifteen years ago. Growing up in central Pennsylvania I took my beautiful surroundings for granted. Years of camping, hiking wooded trails and forested parks had gone unappreciated until I moved away. And fall, autumn, was the most beautiful of seasons with its falling leaves amid striking sunsets. I would miss most of autumn in Pennsylvania this year. But I missed my daughter so much more.

I step into the woods and my senses are alive, drinking in my favorites: the sweet Oak, the wet grass, even the damp dark soil smells heavenly. Funny I never noticed they had the same smells in London as in Pennsylvania. Nor did I realize that autumn existed here. Not much different than back home.

I walk on, my legs itching to be exercised: tomorrow will be the reunion. I had been waiting for this day for months and the two weeks spent in isolation had been agonizing. I was so close to seeing her, touching her soft skin, drinking in her beautiful blue-green gold eyes, hearing her sweet breath while she slept in the next bed. So so close.

Tomorrow I'll take the two hour train ride from London to Bristol to see my baby in person. It hardly seems possible after eight months and a part of me is so afraid it may not happen. But no, it will happen, I am so close this time.

Since I have been in quarantine I've been checking my temperature constantly, eating fruit and vegetables, taking vitamins and airbornes, essentially doing everything I can to stay healthy for the day I've waited for for eight months. And the fact that it's so near, only a day away seems unreal.

I think of putting my arms around her and drinking in her lovely apple scented hair. Maybe we'll go out and walk and enjoy the autumn day or maybe we'll just lie down snuggle for hours holding, becoming one as only mother and daughters can. The mistakes of the past, what the future holds, none of it matters...just enjoying the present as long as we can.

The two week quarantine came into effect this summer. Because the US had done such a poor job at handling the coronavirus outbreak the unthinkable happened. The US had been placed on a list of countries that entering the UK required a two week quarantine.

I've been on edge since March. I work as a flight attendant for a major airline and when the news of the pandemic broke my whole world came crashing down around me. All of my hopes, all of my fears in dealing with this situation...everything including my job was literally up in the air. I had to keep my elderly parents back home healthy. The pressure of the mental and physical was almost too great. But not seeing my daughter was the greatest hardship I had ever faced. This was the longest we'd ever been apart.

But I refused to let it break me. I had to take a few months off work, because for a while, the anxiety, the OCD I developed surrounding the virus, overwhelmed me, almost to the breaking point.

But I survived. Like all the other difficult times in my forty years, I survived.

And once again I was able to come back to England.

But this time is different. This time I won't be going home in a hurry. The pandemic hit the airlines hard and I was furloughed from my job almost a blessing in disguise that I would now have time to spend with her.

This isn't the time to speak of past circumstances and why I first left. Though trust me the situation was dire and the courts weren't on my side. This is the present.

A new start is right around the corner. Time to leave the past behind with the fiery leaves heating my heels but never burning me. As the gently falling leaves make room for new growth I too am unstoppable.