The family walked into the clinic for booster shots. The dad looked at both the boys and asked, “Who wants to go first?”  The boys glanced, took a step back, and swiftly pointed at each other. Neither wanted to go first. The dad was well prepared for this reaction. He casually mentioned, “Whoever goes first will get skittles.” Smart thinking dad! The littlest one, who was choking up just moments ago in anticipation of the prick, shot his hand up and happily plonked on his dad’s lap, and bravely extended his arms. 

What would a kid not do for a pack of skittles? Long live small briberies that win big battles. 

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As we were waiting at the booster clinic for the mandatory 15-minute waiting period following Ram’s booster, it occured to me that just over a year back Da and I had our first shot. In the past year, amongst the four of us, we have had a total of 13 covid shots for our family. Imagine that! If the first shot was dripping with gratitude, by our 13th shot, the gratitude is diluted with some pondering – how did we get here this quickly? is this the new normal? what price are we going to pay for this in the long term?

Based on rudimentary skills that she learnt from her fifth grader, she managed to put a video together for the upcoming Moving on Ceremony. A task she signed up for based on a hunch rather than having the requisite skills set. The video involved compiling a baby picture and a fifth grade photo for each child for the entire fifth grade. A celebration of the elementary years as they move on to middle school.

As she inched closer to finishing the video, her thoughts kept drifting to the group of 19 children who will not be having a Moving on Ceremony. How in the world could this have happened a second time in ten years? Children killed while being where they are supposed to be, doing what they are supposed to be doing?  How can the last day of school end as the last day in the life of 19 children and 2 teachers? 

A 11-year old witnessed something that no child should have to see first hand. In the face of such a gruesome situation, she had the presence of mind to call 911 and ask for help. She had the presence of mind to come up with a plan to act dead should the shooter come back. In the meantime, there is a group of trained cops sitting outside, waiting for the keys and a tactical team to rescue them. Just for a second, dare to imagine that and allow yourself to feel sick in the stomach.

Democracy is a lot of hard work. There are so many urgent and important problems waiting to be fought. Gun controls, global warming, reproductive rights, the war, the inflation…Not to mention the daily business of living, working, and caring and overcoming personal struggles. It’s all so overwhelming. But someone she follows on social media had wise words. We don’t have to do it all. We lean in on each other. Each of us pick a cause that is closer to our hearts. When it’s all too much, we unplug, recover and come back rejuvenated. We do what we can when we can with what we have. Help a neighbor. Be kind to your loved one. Recycle. Write 10 postcards. Talk to your child. The only thing we cannot afford to do is stop caring.

She holds Uvaldale in her thoughts and prays for healing.

The plan was to pick Hari from the library on the way back home from Ram’s karate class. All I know is I turned NPR on and got totally engrossed in it until I hit the turn closer to our home. “We forgot to pick Hari, can you text him that we are on the way,” I asked the child seated in the backseat who does not have a phone but takes immense delight in using one. As though he heard us right that instant, Hari called. 

Ram: Sorry Hari, although you are not a forgettable person, we forgot to pick you. 

Hari: Thanks Ram, that’s the nicest thing you have said to me in a long time. 

Much needed comic relief at the end of the day! 

Last month Ram crossed over from being a cub scout to being a boy scout. It was a low key intimate ceremony where the Arrow of Light scouts were celebrated for their hard work. Kudos to his Den leaders who were nurturing and went above and beyond to help them meet their requirements in less than ideal circumstances. 

Ram had his first camping trip this weekend as a boy scout. His very first overnight camp, without either Da or I. The house felt a little empty without our kadai kutty and all conversations eventually revolved around him. We cracked up recalling his antics and pranks.  

He came home this morning, cold and cranky. “You guys don’t know how lucky you are to sleep on your queen beds when it is so cold out there” We have been pestering for details but the child has been throwing us some crumbs here and there. They cooked their own food  (or in his words, “pretty much”). He had to attend to nature’s call a few times but it was ok, not a big deal.

The first of the many more camping trips to come.