PenPenWrites

PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Vaccine Hunters: Who can helm our search for Covid protection?

02/10/2021

I got a shot today. My state tells me I am of an age where I qualify for the Covid vaccine. My husband I–both recovered Covid patients–had hoped to go together for shots. We signed onto various pre-register websites, but it became increasingly challenging (that us, impossible) for us to find and make reservations for shots at the same time and place–no less for even one of us to get a shot. Yesterday, I received an "invitation" from one of the lists to make a vaccine reservation for the next day. My husband, on the same list, did not get an invite. Go figure. Since the vaccine site was only 2 miles from our home, I decided to accept the invite and continue working on an invite for him, somewhere, somehow.

Some friends of ours have managed the "together" feat (see this post ) even though it's meant driving an hour or two each way. The appointments came courtesy of a technological lift from their grown children. What I saw happening with a handful of friends turns out to be a nationwide phenomenon. Adult children, who are more nimble than their parents with their phones, laptops and iPads, are finding places and times for mom and dad to get immunized.

How universal is this phenomenon? One New York resident reported to the Washington Post, "My group texts have really shifted from swapping horror stories about managing kids in virtual learning to getting vaccination appointments for our parents."

I consider myself moderately adept on the Internet–I use my desk and laptop computers for writing, editing, researching and communicating. I use my smartphone and iPad to zoom into courses and meetings; I can even set up a short meeting. But when I read about the manipulation of multiple devices that the younger generation executes in their search for parental vaccine shots, I realize I am way below novice grade.

Here's what one daughter did to secure shots for her parents: She learned a supermarket in her parents' county was going to schedule 1,500 vaccinations and would open its website for appointments at 6 in the morning. At 5:55 she had the website open on her laptop and "fired up a second page, this one in incognito mode. Then she pulled up two more browsers on her phone. 'I'm using my thumb on my phone and flipping between pages, and clicking through on the computer.' "

She lost me at "incognito mode."

Another recent report took note of how a lack of access to computers and smartphones is shutting out many seniors who are eligible for shots. The main way to book an appointment is by the Internet. There is a phone number to call but good luck getting through. That makes older parent totally dependent on their adult children to help them out.

There has long been a technological gap between generations– oil lamps to electric lights; radio to television. (For a fun look at adjustments to new technologies, see Doonesbury on bringing Joanie, Zonk and others into a zoom room.) It's just that in the pandemic world, the stakes are too high not acknowledge our Internet illiteracy. If we have to tap into our kids or grandkids to bridge that gap, we are lucky we have them and they are there for us.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Covid, Grown Kids and Technology: Our kids help us through the hard parts–even from afar.

02/01/2021

My sample may be small but here's what I see happening: Many of my friends who have managed to get their arms in the way of a covid vaccination have had the aid and assistance of their grown children. Their kids became their vaccination hunters. Makes sense: Our kids have more Internet savvy, online search skills and knowledge of different platforms. They're finding hot spots where a vaccine shot can be had–and booking reservations for their vaccine-eligible parents as soon as they spot an opening. No waiting around to talk it over. Everything takes place on Internet time, folks. One set of friends had to drive an hour from their home to get their first shot and a reservation for a second one; another went to a state where their son lived. They admit they couldn't have managed the sophisticated search it took to find a slot, figure out the eligibility rules and make a reservation on their own.

Here's something else, and it's something I've experienced personally: When, despite the masking and social distancing and handwashing, we nonetheless fall ill from Covid, our kids are there to manage information, health providers and other services–from afar but with their superior smartphone skills. After my husband and I both became ill (and tested positive) our kids boned up on everything Covid–calling their medical friends, reading CDC guidelines and gathering information from a variety of sites. With their dad in the hospital and me fogged-out and sick at home, they called the hospital for updates, talked to our doctors, asked questions about our care and overnighted oxygen measuring devices. They threatened to drive down here and were coordinating that effort when I got wind of it and rallied enough to yell "No." After all, there is nothing they could do for either their dad or me that they couldn't do by phone from the safety of their homes. Or as the hospitalist doctor treating their dad told them: "The only thing you can do if you come down here is get Covid."

It was an odd feeling to have my kids calling our doctors instead of the other way around (as it was when they were young.) This wasn't them being parents who were telling us what we could or should do in the pandemic (as discussed in this post); it was them stepping up to take care of their parents who were ill and needed someone to take over for a few days.

My husband turned out to have a mild case of Covid-19 and was home in three days; I too had a mild case. But I can tell you, mild though it was, Covid is nasty. A month later we're much better but still not tip-top–not yet as fit as we were before we got sick.

We do have something positive from our experience: The comfort of knowing our children were willing and more than able to step up and take care of us–and from afar.

photo credit: Maia Lemov
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

New Grandparents: Do we have babynaming rights?

01/25/2021

Many of us have been proactive when it comes to our handles as grandparents. We feel free to tell our kids–the parents of our grandbabies–what we would like to be called. Whether it's PopPop or Nana or something we make up–I've chosen PenPen–it doesn't feel intrusive or controlling to choose our name.

But the naming ends there. Where we need to tread more cautiously is when it comes to choosing the baby's name. We can make suggestions; perhaps, pass on to our children reminders of family traditions. But we are at our peril if we persist in trying to sway our children in their choice.

“Names are all about identity. The name the parents choose is central to who the child is and will be, and grandparents feel very invested in that,” said Pamela Redmond, chief executive of Nameberry and co-author of books on baby names. Although we may hope to see a family name carried on, or would like one that reaches into our family's culture, our children may have other ideas. When they act on those ideas, we may feel that “the link to their ancestry is broken,” Redmond said, in an article by Paula Span in the NYTimes.

Some of the points covered in Span's article:

Discomfort with the "new" names:

We have our own notions of appropriateness and a probably misguided sense that our grandchildren’s names reflect on us. So when our children creatively come up with Nevaeh (it’s “heaven,” backward) or use the city where the baby was conceived (like Nashua), we bridle.

“If you’re the conservative who named your kids Tom and Emily, and they’re naming their daughter Miles and their son Freedom, it’s like showing up at the country club with blue hair and tattoos,” Ms. Redmond said.

The new normal:

Young parents face a vastly wider assortment of choices than older generations ever considered. New parents may gravitate toward gender-neutral names, for instance. Older generations’ notions about playground taunts have become outdated when kids have such diverse names that a plain vanilla Linda or a mundane Mike may yearn for something more distinctive.

Standing down:

“This is the first stage in grandparents’ realizing that this is not their kid and they don’t have control. They have to step back, and some are good at that and some are terrible.”–Sally Tannen, who has directed parenting and grandparenting workshops at the 92nd Street Y in NYC.

Worst-case scenario:

Clashes over names can backfire, Ms. Tannen pointed out, if they make new parents angry enough to withdraw. Parents serve as the gatekeepers to their children and, as I learned from my conversations, they remember feeling pummeled, even decades later.

Get over it:

“As soon as you’re pregnant, everyone has an opinion” about names, Ms. Tannen has observed. “Once there’s a baby, it would be pretty silly to hold onto that.”

Span writes of one grandfather who was so angry about his children's choice of name for his first grandson that he swore he would never utter the name. "It’s taken a while but, he told me," Span writes, " 'I’m happy to call him whatever he wants to be called.' ”

painting: Mary Cassatt
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Daddy Indulgence: If we’re guilty of over-helping our young-adult children, is that bad?

01/19/2021

Scratch someone who doesn't have children and they'll probably tell you: Too much. That would be in answer to the question: Do parents do more than they should for their adult children. I had a single co-worker who dubbed my husband "Daddy Indulgence" for such "crimes" as paying for our children's college tuition. (We had saved up for it for years.)

My co-worker's teasing was good-natured. (She hoped our kids appreciated the gift.) But still, the "daddy indulgence" trope persists as a reflex reaction. There's a reason for its apparent growth recently: Although our children's march toward financial independence moves forward, it's doing so at a slower pace than our generation's.

According to a Pew 2019 survey, financial independence is

"one of the many markers used to designate the crossover from childhood into young adulthood, and it’s a milestone most Americans (64%) think young adults should reach by the time they are 22 years old….But that’s not the reality for most young adults who’ve reached this age.

The reality is: In 1980, roughly one-third of young adults were financially independent by the time they hit age 22; in 2018, that was down to one-fourth. When Pew looked more broadly at young adults ages 18 to 29, though, the survey found financial independence has been largely stable in recent decades, with women closing a gender gap.

There are other markers that suggest our adult children are less independent than we were. Here's Pew again. (This was based on a 2019 survey in those halcyon pre-pandemic days; Covid-19 has likely skewed a lot of the numbers and not in a positive direction):

Today’s young adults are staying in school longer and are marrying and establishing their own households later than previous generations. A growing share are living in their parents’ homes well into their 20s and even early 30s. (See this Parenting Grown Children post.) Some of these changes are linked to economic challenges, while others may represent a realignment of goals and priorities.

As to the indulgence side of the equation, the Pew survey found we were helping out our kids with the basics– groceries and housing–plus tuition.

Aside from the question of whether these 'indulgences" augur good or ill for our adult children, where does the finger of blame point? Pew is quite unequivocal: The majority of the public says, as my co-worker teased, parents do too much for their young-adult children and most parents of adult children disagree.

How do our kids feel about the aid and assistance? Pew asked that question as well. Turns out we're in sync with our kids on this one:

Young adults themselves are largely satisfied with what their parents are doing for them. A majority (65%) say their parents do about the right amount for them – similar to the share of parents of young adults who say they do about the right amount for their kids.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Re-Formed Nests: Grown kids are moving back home–a trend with a Covid accelerant.

01/13/2021

Ever since the pandemic descended on us in March, there's been a noticeable uptick in an ongoing trend: Our adult kids are moving in with us. For some the reason is financial: the economy crashed and with it, their jobs. For others, it's emotional: the loneliness of living alone in a small apartment under quarantine conditions. For some it's technical: they still have their jobs but they need more robust Internet connections. And for others it's familial: Their kids are going to school by zoom and there's a need for loving caretakers.

There are a thousand permutations of reasons. One couple hosted their daughter, her husband and their toddler grandchild for a year while the young family sold their city apartment and bought a house in the suburbs.

By September, Pew Research was reporting that the share of 18- to 29-year-olds living with their parents had become a majority, surpassing the previous peak during the Great Depression era.

Here are Pew's numbers:

In July, 52% of young adults resided with one or both of their parents, up from 47% in February. The number living with parents grew to 26.6 million, an increase of 2.6 million from February. The number and share of young adults living with their parents grew across the board for all major racial and ethnic groups, men and women, and metropolitan and rural residents, as well as in all four main census regions. Growth was sharpest for the youngest adults (ages 18 to 24) and for White young adults.

The move back to the comforts of the parental nest was a factor during the Great Recession of a decade ago. At that time, family became an economic refuge for many. Pew says it ran its recent survey because it wanted to see whether young adults again resorted to that “private safety net” amid the pandemic's widespread shutdowns and rough economic conditions.

Here's what they found:

Young adults have been particularly hard hit by this year’s pandemic and economic downturn, and have been more likely to move than other age groups….About one-in-ten young adults (9%) say they relocated temporarily or permanently due to the coronavirus outbreak, and about the same share (10%) had somebody move into their household. Among all adults who moved due to the pandemic, 23% said the most important reason was because their college campus had closed, and 18% said it was due to job loss or other financial reasons.

The vast majority of young adults who live with their parents – 88% – live in their parents’ home, and this group accounts for the growth in the population of adult children living with their parents. Nearly all of the remainder live in their own homes along with their parents, or in homes headed by other family members. These shares have been relatively stable for the past decade.

Not all of us are happy to have our "guest room" reoccupied by adult children who have needs, opinions and lifestyles that may not fit with ours. Then there's the wider world concerns. The effect on the economy could be devastating. Even before the outbreak, the growth in new households trailed population growth and slower household growth could mean less demand for housing and household goods. There also may be a decline in the number of renters and homeowners, and in overall housing activity. Between February and July 2020, the number of households headed by an 18- to 29-year-old declined by 1.9 million, or 12%.

If you'd like to see the trend data in chart form, here's how Pew lays it out:
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Observation: Buddha’s comfort for these troubling times

12/21/2020

Many of us will not be able to hug our children or grandchildren this holiday week. We may see them on a screen or hear them on a phone but the family traditions we usually observed–hosting a large family feast; traveling to gather together with grown children and grandchildren–are not safely possible this year. While we say goodbye to the miseries of 2020, hope the new vaccines bring an end to the pandemic in 2021 and wait till this summer (fingers crossed) to be together again with friends and family, I take comfort in this ages-old wisdom:

“In the end, only three things matter: how much you loved, how gently you lived, and how gracefully you let go of things not meant for you.”

— Buddha

photo credit: Maia Lemov
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Holidays Together with Our Kids? Ways to decide how much risk to take.

12/14/2020

Our grown children are in their households. We're in ours. We may be in the same city or not. We did whatever we did over Thanksgiving but now the Christmas-New Year holidays are ahead of us. So are worsening pandemic numbers. We all yearn for a "normal" holiday time together. And yet, there is danger in our gathering together.

So here we are again, grappling with the question of how much risk we to take to be with our grown children during the holidays–to say nothing of our siblings, aunts, uncles and close friends.

I've been reading some studies on how our brains work in assessing risk and bringing us to whatever decisions we make in life. Covid-19, it turns out, complicates everything.

How we make decisions:

Under normal circumstances the different regions of our brain assess emotions and information, tapping into our personality and tendencies for risk as well as our understanding of risk as it relates to our age and health. That's all factored into making a decision.

Covid-19 is not normal. The pandemic presents the brain with novel scenarios and information. Most of us have never experienced a severe pandemic and the many unknowns that come with it. That may lead us to look at how others are responding. We also draw on our personal experience of the pandemic itself, especially if we've witnessed someone becoming ill or dying. Our identity also affects our decision-making. Neuroscientist Gaurav Suri points to mask-wearing, behavior that early in the pandemic was influenced by how we identify politically.

The brain clings to signals that things are normal — supermarkets are open, the cat climbs on your lap, you take walks. We desire normalcy. Neuroscientists suggest that may be why people come to different conclusions about their risks and make decisions based on the interaction and strength of many different networks.

Challenges to our ability to assess risk: Not only are we dealing with pandemic fatigue and the yearning for a return to more balanced life, we're also experiencing the stirrings of memory, joy and meaning that are part of getting together during the holidays.

Decision-making suggestion:

Make a risk budget: “As people make decisions about doing different things, it’s important they understand that any risk you take is additive. So, if you engage in one area that’s risky, you should try to reduce risk in other areas when you can,” says Dr. Leana Wen.

Kayt Sukel suggests making a risk budget, which she describes this way: “If you want to get a haircut, great — but then maybe you don’t go out for a meal. If you are thinking about in-person school because it’s best for your family, then skip birthday parties and other social events."

The bottom line: "A budget can be empowering. It’s a way to live your values and still protect you and yours from harm," Sukel says. "It’s also a way to push some of those factors like stress and social factors to the side so they don’t have an outsized influence on your decisions."

These are the worst of times for Covid-19 fatigue. Vaccines are here. Enough of us may be immunized by summer. By then it will likely be safe to see friends and family in-person again–go on vacation, eat at our favorite restaurants and even take in a show at a theater. The end is in sight. But it's not here yet. Scientists fear we may let down our guard and not make the best decisions for our family's health during the December holidays.

No shaming here. We all have different tolerances for risk and different risk budgets. We need to respect that, especially in these times of stress.

painting: Picasso
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Empty Nest: Why are we happier than our young adult kids are?

12/09/2020

Economists who study happiness–yes there are such folks out there–have found that happiness (or, as they define it, satisfaction with life) is high when we're 16 years old then drops off into a U-shaped curve that doesn't peak again until we're nearly 50 years old. For many of us who are parents, 50 coincides with the dreaded unhappiness of the suddenly empty nest. So what gives?

That's a point a Freakonomics program called No Stupid Questions, posed in its discussion of happiness and when we feel the best about our lives. You can read (or listen to the podcast of) that discussion for yourself and delight in its quirky good humor. Or you can scroll through some of the highlights I've picked out. The dialogue is between Stephen Dubner, who wrote Freakonomics, and Angela Duckworth, a psychologist. Here are some highlights:

The Empty Nest effect:

DUCKWORTH: …., one of the findings from marriage research is that so many married couples with children fear the empty-nest syndrome. But actually, on average, people tend to be happier once they’ve sort of gotten over the initial crying of your last kid being dropped off to college. I think there are other explanations, though.

Why our young adult and 20- and 30-something kids are not as happy as we think they should be:

DUBNER: Are you suggesting — and I think there is research that suggests this — that young people are unrealistically optimistic? And even if the answer to that is yes, can you really say that it is unwise, because maybe one of the things that you need a surplus of when you’re starting out is optimism, because in fact, it can be hard.

DUCKWORTH: There is a psychologist who I love named Don Moore. He’s a judgment and decision-making scientist. And he believes that not only the young, but people of all ages, can be recklessly optimistic. And he thinks that this overconfidence is actually a problem. …

I think that these high aspirations that young people have — rose-tinted movies in their head about what their wedding is going to be like, and how their children are going to be beautiful and perfect, and all these projections into the future — which are probably a little naive. I think you could ask the question whether they’re really unwise or not. I do think that if you reach higher, you’ll get farther, but you might be less happy doing it. …….

And there is this gap between what we are achieving and our aspirations, not because we’re achieving less. We’re probably achieving more. I’m mean, we’re learning more. We’re having, in some cases, higher-quality experiences. But our aspirations are growing faster than our objective achievements.

The angst young adults feel as they become independent

DUCKWORTH: Yeah, I think what teenagers experience is actually, high highs and low lows. And there’s a lot of scientific evidence for that, too. I’m a university professor, so I see lots of 18- to 22-year-olds who have their fair share of angst. And they are experiencing the decrease in happiness. They have memories of being carefree children. And I think that downward slope, my guess is, is feeling the difference between what it was and what it is today.

We’re very sensitive to changes. And to feel that everything was so simple then, and that you could eat an ice cream cone without guilt. They’re all of a sudden burdened with the weighty responsibilities of adulthood – their first career choices, their first disappointments professionally, or maybe major ones romantically. And when you’re sad it’s really hard to be convinced that you’ll ever not be sad. I like to tell young people who are in emotional turmoil, or experiencing the decrease in their emotional well-being, that life is long and that they won’t feel exactly this way forever.

Is schadenfreude the reason we're happier as we hit the higher age numbers?

DUBNER: [Some researchers]…suggest that one potential reason for the upswing in happiness around midlife is that you’ve seen people that you grew up with having really bad fortune, dying and whatnot. As you said, your gratitude may start to kick in a little bit more.

DUCKWORTH: I mean, the cynical interpretation of that is it’s all downward social comparison. You look at people who, “Oh, my gosh, I can’t believe that happened.” And that somehow makes you feel better. I mean, just having some perspective, right? …. The wide-angle lens on life that allows you to appreciate a good cup of coffee and, wow, nothing went wrong today.

DUBNER: Wow. You really have lowered your expectations, haven’t you?

DUCKWORTH: I guess that’s why I’m so happy.

Shedding unhappiness

DUBNER: …. How would you suggest people try to get rid of the things that make them unhappy and increase the ones that work?

DUCKWORTH: …one of the most reliable interventions to increase happiness is called the “three blessings exercise.” And you simply think of three good things that happened, usually in the last 24 hours. And you rattle them off. I’ve gotten so good at it. I can do it usually in 10 or 15 seconds: Lucy, Amanda, the avocado was ripe.

DUBNER: Wait. Just naming your children fulfills the three? That’s what you’re saying?

DUCKWORTH: I know you’re going to say that’s a cheat, or how is that possible? But when I bring my kids to mind, I’m like, “Lucy’s healthy, Amanda finished her midterms.” I mentioned the avocado, I don’t want to put that on the same level as my children. But it was a miracle of God that the avocado was actually not too ripe and not underripe.

photos: Maia Lemov
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Report on Virtual Thanksgivings: Zoomsgiving fun.

12/01/2020

My friend Jo planned her virtual Thanksgiving with her three children, who live in three different time zones, around cocktails. She offered each child a time slot–5:00 their time zone on one of the days of the Thanksgiving weekend. She did not aim to bring everyone together–not with one child in Copenhagen, one near her on the east coast and another in San Francisco. Her aim was to ease the alone time of the holiday and add a few hours of family joy with a mock/cocktail hour with each of her children (and any spouses and grandchildren in residence).

How did that go? Her report:

I pulled off being the "host" on a zoom mock/cocktail party by going to "zoom school" a week before my "test." I set up my son's family in San Francisco (all of whom are technically savvy, so I wanted to "shine") for 5 pm their time, 8 pm my time. I sent them a box of snacks; they furnished their own drinks. There's a 40 minute limit on zoom meetings if you're doing it for free. My grandchildren could tolerate that amount of time.

My daughter and granddaughter live in Denmark and usually host a Thanksgiving meal for their friends and assorted Americans they know, but not this year. Demark isn't playing around with the Pandemic. So no partying for them. We talk once a week on Facetime, and – as Thanksgiving isn't a holiday in Denmark – it wasn't anything special.

For my son who lives near me, we Facetimed at an agreed on time for dessert on Thanksgiving day, including my son's family's two college-age daughters who were home for Thanksgiving, me in my apartment and my son's father (my ex) and his wife in Cambridge. Oh, and their dogs! It went well.

My family zoomed its way through an elaborate day. Here's how it went for three households living in three different cities but–lucky us–all in the same time zone.

I had spent the week obsessing about having a memorable holiday and that obsession meant pre-planning. It was worth the time and effort, especially since others picked up on the cues and added their own magic. We started with a noon-time 3-kitchen zoom where each kitchen (cooks and advisers) baked together, muting our mics when running the mixer, asking for advice on unexpected problems (I cut my apples too soon; granddaughter advised cinammon to keep them from turning brown) and showing each other our pre-baked efforts. Easy to pull off if everyone is on board and has recipe and ingredients on hand. It was more fun than you might think.

The best part of our zoomsgiving, though, was the late afternoon, pre-dinner get together for a family quiz based on photos of family members when they were younger than they are today. I had photo-texted a dozen to my son, my daughter sent a few and my son found some. He put together a slide show of the photos and posed "challenging" questions designed to encourage everyone to come up with over-the-top answers–the more outrageous the better. We laughed a lot and, key to it all, everyone participated. The chat function got a workout. I'm still giggling over some of the answers.

We turned off the zoom, took a break and ate our dinners without screentime or being together.

Later in the evening we zoomed again to eat the desserts we had baked together. We were all pretty tired by then. One of us (he shall be unnamed) dozed off on his living room floor. I rate the dessert-zoom as modified bliss. Maybe one event too many. But overall the three-way Thanksgiving "visit" was upbeat, comforting and memorable.

With the Christmas-New Years holidays ahead–and no clear sign that the pandemic will allow for safe travel and visits before the end of the year–I wanted to share what worked at Thanksgiving so we can build on that if we're still stuck in the same pandemic rut.

Love to hear from you about your Thanksgiving accommodations to the current realities.

painting: Cezanne

photo: Maia Lemov
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Virtual Adjustments: We will have a memorable Thanksgiving even if it’s digital.

11/22/2020

Zoom is the answer. That's what we–me, my friends, our families–tell each other when we talk about how we'll be together when we won't be together this Thanksgiving.

But what will we do with Zoom–sit in front of a camera and tell each other Hello and Happy Thanksgiving? Eat our separate dinners together in front of the Zoom lens?

I have made an executive decision for my family–a daughter and her family in Massachusetts; a son and his family in New York; Paterfamilias and me in Maryland–that we'll use Zoom to have a memorable holiday. It won't be like our usual Thanksgivings where we gather at my son's house, pitch in to cook the many dishes that spell turkey, tofurkey and trimmings, and go for a walk before over-indulging on dessert. But we can still do things that we can look back on next year or years from now and say, "Remember the fun we had the year of the pandemic."

I can dream, can't I?

Putting dream into action, I have started on that road by asking my kids and grandkids to contribute ideas. Here's what we've got so far.

Meal Prep: On the morning of Thanksgiving we'll set up our Zoom cams in our respective kitchens and cook together. Right now we're thinking dessert: I'll do my German apple cake; my Massachusetts granddaughter wants to try pecan pie; my son's family will indulge his love of pumpkin pie. Different desserts but we'll be baking together and chatting as we preheat our ovens, grease our pie pans and get our hands full of flour and sugar and shortening. We won't be able to share results or even the heady aromas of each other's kitchens but we'll still be together in the kitchen. It's my favorite part of Thanksgiving and I don't want to give it up.

Drop-Ins: We'll send zoom invites to friends we used to see at Thanksgiving and ask them to drop by to say hello. It will be fun to exchange greetings and see how their families have grown and they can see ours. The drop-in doesn't have to last long, but I feel lighter knowing we'll have visits from people we care about and who care about us.

Drama: As keeper of snapshots from our child-rearing years, I have been asked by my son to pick out a few old photos of him and his sister and scan them to him. He promises to create a slide show with commentary that his children and niece will find amusing–even if he and his sister are the butt of the jokes.

Fun and Games: We will, of course, do our usual routine of asking each one of us to talk about what we are grateful for this year. We might add a second round of something silly we're grateful for. But beyond that, we will play some campfire-style games like Two Truths and a Lie or 20 Questions. Here's a link to more suggestions for online party games.

More Thoughts: I suggested a family sing-along–surely there's an app with music and lyrics we could follow. My children shot that down immediately. We are not a family of singers; some of us are carry-a-tune challenged. But I put it out there for more vocal-oriented families. There are also apps that let you play card games together or watch a movie and chat about it. Both Disney+ and Amazon Prime come with built in watch-partying features.

There's also the great outdoors. A friend whose grown daughters and their families live nearby is avoiding indoor family gatherings of any size. Instead, she is planning to mask up and go on a hike with the willing. If the weather is foul on Thanksgiving day it's bound to be more hospitable at least one day of the weekend. Hike on, Joyce!

Still the Same: In years past the days running up to the holiday were filled with much inter-family texting, emailing and phone calling about details–spatchcock the turkey or not, how many versions of stuffing/dressing to make, which desserts to buy and which bake. This year there is still a lot of messaging back and forth, only this time it's to plan the zoom side of our celebration. Doesn't matter what the details are, the important piece is that we're in touch now and we're looking forward to being together in whatever shape togetherness takes.

painting: Carl Larsson