PenPenWrites

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

Gifts to a Grown Child’s Loved One: Can we take them back when they leave the family?

08/03/2020

In the best of all possible worlds, we give our children gifts freely. We attach no strings–unless there's good cause and that, of course, is not the best of all possible worlds. We may be willing to loan/gift our child money to help them keep up on mortgage payments or add an addition to the house. We might specify that is what the money we gift them is to be used for–and not for anything else. Or we can just give them the gift and trust they will use it appropriately.

But what about the valuable sentimental stuff? Let's say we give our future daughter-in-law an heirloom piece of jewelry–a string of pearls our mother used to wear or the diamond from our father's pinkie ring. What a joy to see the jewels out and about with a future member of the family. But then, what do we do if the romance falls apart and the future DIL is the past. Or there's a divorce. Now it's hurtful to see that necklace set off on a sweater of a person who is no longer part of or welcome in the family. Or we want to give it to the next daughter-in-law or a grandchild. Can we attach a post-gift string and ask for the return of a gift?

Philip Galanes dealt with that touchy issue in a recent Social Qs. A woman wrote in to say she gave as a Christmas gift an aquamarine necklace worn by her mother to the girlfriend of her grandson, who had assured her the relationship was serious. The following Christmas she gifted another heirloom piece to the girlfriend. And then the couple broke up. The woman writes: "I asked my grandson to retrieve our family heirlooms, but his ex-girlfriend refused to return them. What can I do?

Not much, although Galanes suggests two possible solutions, neither of them dependent on the grandson. Here's his full reply:

I’m sorry you mistook a “serious” relationship for one that was permanent (or might yield great-granddaughters). That doesn’t always happen, as you now know. The ex is under no obligation, other than a sympathetic one, to return gifts that were freely given to her. Givers retain no ownership in gifts.

But perhaps a call from you to the ex about the sentimental value of the jewelry may help? When something similar happened in my family, my mother agreed to buy back the heirlooms. (She was furious about it, but she did it.) Is that possible? And next time, think twice before handing over a tiara you intend to take back if circumstances change.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

The Good, Bad and Wondrous: Our grown kids are sheltering with us during the pandemic. Is multigeneration housing the future?

07/27/2020

Friends spent the first five months of the pandemic housing their daughter, her husband and three-year-old Lucas. The young family had been living in Manhattan when New York City became the hot zone for the coronavirus. They felt unsafe and moved in with her parents in suburban Maryland for what everyone assumed would be a few weeks. It was months, and in the interim–while Lucas ran through the sprinkler in granny and poppy's backyard and all four adults worked remotely–the daughter and SIL sold their New York apartment and bought a home in a New York suburb. They moved a few weeks ago. Despite our friends' irritation at their daughter's parenting style (no discipline!), the exhaustion of keeping the refrigerator full and the inconvenience of an overextended bandwidth, my friends miss the happy noise of a full house, the warmth of a 3-year-old's afternoon snuggles and the deepened bond with their grown child.

I was reminded of their experience by a moving op-ed Timothy Egan wrote about the few months his daughter, her husband and their 1-year-old twins sheltered from the pandemic with him and his wife, a time he described as "exhausting, kinetic, cramped, and one of the few consistent joys in this awful time." Egan's daughter and her family needed a safe place to hunker down in between a move from one city to another.

Now that his daughter has moved her family 1,000 miles away, Egan writes of missing her and the toddlers "who have no sense of gravity, and would as soon walk off the deck into thin air as eat a dirt clod." The multigenerational experience has Egan believing the future points to parents and grown kids bunking in together once again. He notes housing trends that were already underway: For the first time in 160 years the average number of people in the American household went up instead of down. Pew found that the number of Americans living in multigeneratinal households has increased by almost 70 percent since 1980. He sees the pandemic accelerating the trend. A Zillow analysis found a 10 percent year-over-year spike in April in the number of young adults living with their parents.

We don't know what the economy will look like on the other side of the current crisis, but I wonder: if there are hard times ahead, will that encourage more of us to live with our children?

As to Egan, he lamented the loss of intimacy when his daughter and her family moved away. "Our house is still and aimless," he wrote, "three generations back to one, and we are left to wonder how so many of us can live like this."
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Should we reboot the tough-love rules on loans to our kids during the corona crisis?

07/21/2020

As we welcomed in the new year of 2020, our adult kids were on a steady financial path: working, paying their rent, fiscally independent. Or they might have been in mid-struggle but showing promise. Then along came the coronavirus pandemic and its devastating effect on the economy. Our adult kids may now be in financial trouble. Some have moved home to shelter with us–and to save money on rent. Some are keeping their physicial distance but asking for tide-over loans.

Should we apply the same rules to helping them out now as we did pre-disaster? Is the Coronavirus crisis a time for stronger-than-usual doses of compassion?

To judge by anecdotes that are on the loose in the media and statistics from Pew, whose pollsters follow inter-generational issues, most of us are welcoming–or allowing–our grown kids to move back in with us. More about that fiscal helping hand in a future post.

What about a loan to help them survive during a failing and flailing economy? According to a survey by Commonwealth taken in the relatively optimistic days of April, more than half of Americans are worried about the virus’ impact on the economy and their financial lives.

If one or more of your grown kids needs help in these extraordinary times, here are some points to pop into the decision hopper:

A run on the Bank of Mom and Dad. That is, one of your grown children could ask for a loan that's a reasonable request and that you want to fill. But our finances have their limits. Are there other children or close relatives–a brother, a parent–who might need help as well. A loan should be seen in the context of how much you can afford to lend and how many key borrowers might have needs.

Lower expectations. You may want to make the loan a loan–not a gift. You may even write out a loan agreement with interest rates and repayment schedule attached. But gird yourself for disappointment or, better case, lapses. These are truly hard times, even panicky ones for those who don't have money in the bank but do have a family to raise–even if income has been reduced or jobs lost. Unexpected expenses and setbacks happen. If we're the ones with resources that can survive a hit, we may not like it but we should be prepared to realize the hit may be permanent. Here's a word of advice from a financial counselor: If it's a loan and not a gift, formalize it with a note about terms and then let it go. "Don’t bring it up at holiday dinners. Don’t give reminders. If you can’t do that, we suggest you not make the loan at all.”

Guarding against a default. Repayment is a bigger issue than ever (see above) but if you've been more generous than you can afford to be and this is money you absolutely need repaid, let your borrower–your grown child or other relative–know the financial reasons in detail. It helps to share why you need this money back, what it has been earmarked for, what setback you would face if the money isn't repaid. Nothing beats communications and transparency.

Sibling rivalry's ugly head. Lending money to one child may make the other feel left out, or loved less, or that their eventual legacy from you is being diminished. They may figuratively stomp a foot and whine, "It's not fair!" All kinds of ugly thoughts and emotions can rise up and strike our kids. Which is not to say such behavior should be honored. Instead, try a pre-emptive strike via communication about why you're doing what and how it will or will not affect the non-borrowing child. It won't hurt to mention the stress we are all under during this national crisis.

A grudge against your spending habits. If they're in need and have to pay you back–or if you decide not to help them out–resentments about how you spend your money can pile up. They may point an accusatory finger at your going on a covid-safe vacation or buying a new car. What do the experts advise? It's your money to do with as you wish. But you might want to reassure them you're not going to let them starve.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Grandparenting: The “Thank You Note” rears its head. With consequences.

07/13/2020

A reader has been in touch about the "thank you" note issue, especially as it pertains to grandchildren and more especially to older grandchildren who may be gifted with a check on a birthday or during the Holidays. It is not surprising that the issue would rear its head again since, in these days of covid-19 shelterings, it is less likely that gifts will be presented to our Grands in person where they can thank us directly and in the moment.

The reader wants to make clear that an acknowledgement counts. She is not hung up on form–at least to a certain extent. She'll accept email or a text or a personal phone call. (A handwritten note? That's a wish too far. but see Gold Standard above from Grand still young enough to pen a note.) What the reader is against is the lack of any response or of receiving only a background shout out when she is on the phone with other adults in the household. That is, she has been on the phone with her grown child when a teenage grandchild in the background will shout out, "Thanks for the check, Grandma."

She does not consider a shout-out an acceptable form of acknowledgment, and this grandmother has taken action to support her belief. She has warned her grown child and her grandchildren that there is a price to pay for the lack of a thank you that shows some thought and appreciation. She told them she would reduce the amount of the gift if acknowledgements weren't forthcoming. She has been as good as her word. She has sent checks in smaller and smaller amounts as a teenage grandchild fails to make even a feeble attempt at a personal thank you.

Kudos to her for not making empty threats. And for taking a stand on what's important to her: an acknowledgement that neither she nor her gift should be taken for granted. It's a life lesson as well: When people help you out or are especially kind–be it a co-worker, friend or a server in a restaurant–a bona fide "thank you" goes a long way.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

When Nana and PopPop Divorce: Explaining the new normal to the grandkids.

07/06/2020

Their marriage had always been rocky, J tells me. "Constant arguments with moments of pure rage," all of which accelerated as their sons left for college but was in full bloom when they came home. The tension was such that J and G's kids moved out of the home as soon as they could–one taking himself off to Oregon and putting down roots there. When he came to town to visit friends he stayed with his brother. "The boys didn't want to be with us," J says. "We were always at each other's throats."

All this is by way of saying that when J and G divorced last year, their adult sons, now nearing their 40s, were neither shocked nor rattled. Their granddaughter–the child of the son who had been living nearby but whose job had moved him to Colorado–was another matter. The five-year-old loved spending time with her Gammie and Grampa. Now J and G were unlikely to be coming to see her together.

This became a major concern for J, even though she had a lot of other adjustments on her plate.

How she chose to handle the issue of divorce with her grandchild–with the help of her therapist– sounded simple and sound to me. So I thought I would share what she told me:

"My son and daughter-in-law had already talked to Evie and told her Gammie and Grampa were getting a divorce, that they were separating because they fought all the time–not arguments like mommy and daddy had but much, much worse. I thought their explanation was wonderful.

On a FaceTime call I told Evie she could ask me anything she wanted about the divorce. She wanted to know what it would be like after her grampa and I separated. I assured her that her grandfather and I were still talking to each other, that getting divorced meant grampa and I were no longer going to live together but that both of us would still spend time with her. Of course, with Covid-19 limitations on travel–I'm not ready to take an airplane anywhere–visits to her have been on FaceTime–and separately so far. We'll see if we do a zoom call for her birthday where my ex and I are online together. My son doesn't trust on that, yet.

Mostly I wanted to validate her feelings about the divorce. It was important for me to let her know she's being heard. It's important with kids to be open and honest at their level so they can feel trusted and trusting with adults as much as possible."
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Our Birthdays in the Time of Coronavirus: How we celebrate togetherness from afar

06/29/2020

Renoir at Phillips Collection

I'll say this for my most recent "uncelebrated" birthday in May: At least it wasn't a Big One–one that ends in a zero and calls for a larger acknowledgement than usual. This year it was just another year older. Yet, in this time of Covid-19, self-isolation, quarantining and sheltering at home, birthdays can feel less than raise-a-glass occasions. They can get subsumed in sadness, given the uncertainty of the time we are now living.

Still, I wanted there to be something special about the day of the birthday. My son and daughter live 400 and 450 miles away, respectively, so a backyard visit with kids and grandkids seated 6 feet away wasn't going to happen. In the past two years, my birthday coincided with a soccer tournament my grandson's team played in and that brought my son and his family from his city to mine. The tournament may have been the reason for the trip, but the visit included candles, cake and the joy at having them around for my birthday. Other years, my daughter and her family made their way hither and we did something special together–a show, sushi dinner, visits to friends.

This year, none of the above was possible. (Certainly not the soccer: My grandson graduated from high school and the tournament team.) Covid-19 was casting its pall and neither child nor any grandchildren would be coming to my house for my birthday–nor me to theirs. Even a festive dinner out was out. The concern, of course, is that these inhibitions will continue for a while. They could even be in place for my next birthday.

And yet this year's birthday was a joyful one after all. One of the silver linings of the corona misery is that life has slowed down for many of us. For me on my birthday that meant there was time for each of my grown children to hang around the cell phone and have longer-than-usual FaceTime chats with me. No need to rush off to a meeting. Even if there was a meeting, it was by zoom so no need to get up and go someplace. There were bouyant texts from each of my grandkids (lots of colorful emojis and balloon bombs) plus a call from a nephew who had been out of touch for nearly two years. I had a birthday lunch in a friend's backyard–three of us, seated six feet apart, eating our individual orders of sushi.

All told, I not only can't complain, but I had a wonderful day filled with friends and family–some only tech-chat available but nonetheless very much present. I have experienced what may be the future and it's not so bad.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Observations: Novelist Emma Straub looks at the doubts we might have about our parenting skills–now and when our kids were small.

06/22/2020

I've just turned the last satisfying page of Emma Straub's All Adults Here. One of the novel's remarkable aspects is how the author toggles back and forth between the mother's (Astrid, the matriarch) and the three grown children's perspectives and cause/effects of her parenting–when the children were small and now, when they're 30-something grown ups.

It's a book about family life with the widowed mom/grandma still living in the Big House where her children were raised in a small, fictional upstate New York town that's a summer retreat for privileged urbanites. Two of the children have put down roots in homes and businesses of their own in the town; one has taken himself off to New York City. The plot, what there is of it, is besides the point. For me the book is about Astrid and her feelings of alienation from her children, second guessing why they don't confide in her or turn to her for advice or guidance.

Many of us can identify. For your reading pleasure, here are a smattering of Astrid's observations about parenting her grown children.

On her New York City son's unexpected request to have his 13-year-old daughter live with Astrid for the upcoming school year.

It had been so long since there was a child in the house, Astrid had spent days shopping and baking and cooking. …Astrid had baked zucchini muffins with walnuts, an enormous casserole of macaroni and cheese, turkey meatballs, chocolate chip cookies, granola bars studded with plump raisins. She'd bought eight bananas. There were enough tomatoes to can and freeze soup and pasta sauce for a whole winter….

The blessings of being a grandparent was knowing all the things that had to be done and having the time to do them. Some of her friends thought that extra patience came with age, but that wasn't it, of course. Their calendars just weren't as full. Astrid was clear-eyed about her position. Nicky [her son] hadn't said, Oh, Mom, please talk to Cecelia [his daughter] about everything, please help. He'd said, Can she come? And the answer was yes. Astrid was an able body; she was a safe house. He was complimenting her ability to keep children alive, not her parenting skills….

An awkward lunch with a busy son whose family life with rambunctious pre-school twins is "difficult" at the moment:

She had wanted to talk to him, to really talk to him, but it was so hard to know where to start. All of a sudden–forty years of parenting in!–she felt like she was on shaky ground. If her son felt this way about his children, if they were making mistakes, how many other mistakes must she have made without admitting them to herself? Her children were the way they were because of all the things she had done and all the things she had not done.

Contemplating her 13-year-old granddaughter reading a book at the kitchen table:

Still, it was nice to see a small face tucked behind a paperback, elbows splayed on the wood. Astrid paused at the counter and just watched. This was what she'd wanted–this was what everyone wanted. To have your children's children around, to be young enough to watch them grow, and for them to be self-sufficient within reason. Grandparenting wasn't the same as parenting, thank god, even in cases like this….Cecelia was right here, an easy guest. It meant that she'd done something right with Nicky after all, whether he'd admit it or not.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Rightsizing: How I cleared my closets and dumped all the stuff my kids didn’t want.

06/15/2020

National Gallery, Hannah Steele

“You are my inspiration,” my friend Eva tells me. She’s not referring to anything creative or ingenious I’ve done. The reference is to the method that helped me downsize/right-size from a sprawling 4-bedroom suburban home (where Paterfamilias and I brought up two children) to a tight, two bedroom urban apartment that’s short on storage space. It's a method that would work for anyone who wants to lighten the storage load in their house, whether or not they are moving out or just tackling the untackleable during the corona quarantine.

My inspirational mantra–You won't need to know Sanskrit to follow it–is this: A bag a day.

Prosaic, perhaps. It's not the full Marie Kondo, but it worked. Every day I would fill a bag (the gold standard: a large black garbage bag) with stuff to either give to our children, gift to charity or toss in the garbage. No matter how tired I was after work, I would head for a closet or a file cabinet or a dark recess of the basement and fill a bag—sometimes it was only the bronze standard of a brown paper lunch bag. Consistency was the point: a bag a day.

Sometimes it was easy. I came across file drawers full of old photographs—from the days when camera shops processed your film and gave you doubles of all your photos. All duplicates in my file drawer were dumped in a bag, along with both sets of photos of the backs of the heads of my children, or a fuzzy focus, or of people I no longer knew or cared about. Ditto for the negatives. Thumbing through envelope upon envelope of old photos was an emotional trip down memory lane but the save/no-save decisions were mindless.

More mindful was the china, glassware, porcelain figurines, silver-plated candelabras and other objects we inherited from both sets of parents. When our mothers were young women growing their families and enlarging their households, they both collected the same sorts of things. Though one set of parents was more affluent than the other, both mothers had accumulated sets of silverware—8 places setting for one, 18 for the other. The candelabra was smaller for one than the other, which was not only large but had many Rococo branches. (Whenever there was a storm and our house lost its electricity, the candelabaras and their three candles apiece lit our way through the dark evening.) Both mothers had collected sets of hand-painted tea cups that had been displayed on bookcases and side tables in their homes. Both had porcelain figurines—peasant figures playing the flute or herding one of Bo Peep's lost sheep—that graced their bookshelves or sat on coffee tables and end tables.

I’d had these objects in storage in my basement since we inherited them. Would my children want them? I took out my iPhone, snapped a shot of my mother’s gold-rimmed dinnerware and texted it to my daughter-in-law. “Would you like this?” I asked this mother of three of my Grands. Within a minute her ping came back at me: “I haven’t used my wedding dishes yet.”

For sentimental reasons, my daughter took a few of the hand-painted tea cups but the porcelain figurines and candelabras met universal resistance. I closed my eyes, held my nose (figuratively speaking) and put it all in bags for charities that, presumably, will sell them to pay some of their bills. My one flirtation with "monetizing" these treasures came when I opened a box filled with fur jackets and stoles my mother had amassed. (My father was a furrier.) I went up on eBay to see what the market was for them. The answer: Not worth my time or effort to sell. They got packed up with the porcelains.

It was guilt-inducing but easier to part with the inherited items. What of the things I had collected or amassed? I had written regularly for the Washingtonian Magazine for a dozen years back in the 70s and 80s. I had every issue of the magazine from that time in my basement. I asked myself, Would my grandchildren read these? Would they even look at them? We all know the answer. I tore out a few articles that represented the variety of stories I had written, promised myself I would digitize them for posterity and recycled the rest of it. Ditto with other clips from my pre-Internet, freelance years: save a few; dump the rest.

Paterfamilias's boxes of law briefs from big cases he had worked on met the same fate. He had to do a lot of shredding, but he made his way through it slowly and methodically.

We started our purge a few months before we put our house on the market so there was no need to rush. Just a bag a day. That held for serving platters, pots, pans, small appliances. I had to harden my heart, but I was amazed at what I could part with once I set my mind to it. Add it felt good to know I was fulfilling part of my legacy to my grown children: clean closets. That is, when the time came and I was no longer around to do it, they wouldn't have a mess of stuff to clear out.

We moved into our apartment nearly four years ago. I have yet to miss a pot or platter or candlestick holder. Come Spring, what I miss is my garden. But I saved a few pots for that.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

Grandparenting during the Coranavirus: Seven tips for keeping long-distance visits safe

06/08/2020

Many of my friends who have grandkids living nearby have loosened the visitation rules: The Grands and Grownkids can come to their backyards–outdoor visits only!–but no hugging. They can have a meal together–at separate tables with separate food, preferably cooked in separate kitchens. There may even be a BYO plates rule.

What about little ole us whose kids and grandkids live too far away for a casual backyard visit? One friend was invited by her son and family to visit for a long weekend at a small, rented house on Cape Cod. Sounded delightful–despite the 6 hour drive. But. But. But. The daughter-in-law had gone back to work as a physician assistant at a clinic whose patients were under court orders to attend drug rehab programs. My friend's antenna went on alert. She wasn't sure what safety measures were in place for personnel at the clinic. She decided a small house and loved one who was working at an essential but possibly Covid-exposed job were not the best mix for her.

If it seems like it's safe to go on a visit, the grandparents I know or have read about have gotten in their cars and driven straight through to wherever their grandkids are–be it a 3-hour drive or one that's 10+. The stays have been brief–only a day or two when the drives are on the shorter side. They've kept their masked distance–not wanting to pick up any virus from their grownkids or grands and taking pains to ensure that they don't bring something untoward into their child's house.

We are hoping to see our children and grandchildren this summer. They live 400 and 450 miles away from us but 150 miles from each other. Long-distance driving is not a viable option for us–even though it is supposedly safer than flying. So our thinking is that we would fly to one child's home city, rent a car, visit and then drive to the other child before flying home. Sum total: 2 airplane trips, one 3-hour drive, 2 pet bunnies, 4 grandkids and 4 adults seen and hugged. Yes hugged. There are ways to do it safely. We can do it! But. But. But. How safe is air travel? Would we be endangering ourselves or our children and grandchildren by moving through an airport and sitting on an airplane with other passengers.

We've gone as far as to check out safety tips. One thing I learned is that I don't have to worry about the air in the planes. When the ventilation system on planes is operating, planes have a very high ratio of outside fresh air to recirculated air — about 10 times higher than most commercial buildings. Plus, most planes' ventilation systems have HEPA filters. These are more efficient at removing both smaller and larger particles.

In addition to the usual–and important–advice to wash hands, wash hands, wash hands, here are seven other safety tips if, like us, fly you must.

Social distance seating. Best bets are airlines that are minimizing capacity and spacing passengers by not using middle seats and having empty rows. Call airlines to check on their policy.

Short flights are safer. That is, they minimize risk by making it easier to avoid using the lavatory and cutting down on exposure time to an infectious person if there's one on board. (That would mean cross country trips taken in two or three separate legs, which sounds like additional exposure to me, plus using the lavatory in the airport. But that's what some experts recommend.)

Choose a window seat. Since there's a wall on one side it helps reduce the number of people one is exposed to during the flight–not to mention all the people going up and down the aisle.

Question the airline. Does it have engineering controls to isolate hazards. These include ventilation systems, on-board barriers, and electrostatic disinfectant sprays on flights.

Bring your own. Travel with hand wipes to disinfect every surface you touch–including the seat belt buckle–plus carry along plastic zip bags for personal items that others may handle, such as a license or passport.

Stay put: Once settled into that window seat, stay there until the plane lands.

Wear a mask. We owe it to each other. But don't trust what the airlines say about requiring masks. Recent newspaper reports indicate that the airlines may request masks and even say they insist on them for crew and passengers alike. But they don't enforce the use of them.
PARENTING GROWN CHILDREN: The children may be grown but we still have our issues.

The New Rules for Grandparents during the Corona Crisis: The where, when and how of visiting hours

05/29/2020

Pieter de Hooch@National Gallery

Is it safe for our grandchildren to visit us or for us to visit them? For the past two and a half months of the coronavirus pandemic, visits have been limited to waves from backyard windows or FaceTime calls. For most of us–those of us who don't live with our grown children–in person contact has been verboten. As state economies open up and Phase 1 morphs into Phase 2, some of those visits are moving toward in-person get-togethers: socially distanced, well-masked and one family group at a time. No hugging allowed.

Some of us are willing to take the risk of mingling with our Grands (and our grown kids), even as our grown children are hesitant. (They look at that ugly CDC statistic: Eight out of 10 deaths from Covid-19 are in people aged 65 and older.)

Surely there are ways to make in-person visits safer. After all, we need to take into account not only our physical well being but our mental health as well. We get lonesome for our loved ones; isolation is depressing.

The experts have some advice about how to make visits with Grands and their parents less threatening to our well-being. Tara Parker-Pope provided such guidance in her story “When Can I See My Grandkids?” Here are some of the tips:

—No one self-evaluates as reckless. Do a reality check about the actual level of vigilance by every member of the visiting household. Some questions to ask every member of the household would cover: How many times did someone go to a store or meet a friend for a walk. Did a teenage boyfriend/girlfriend stop by for a visit? At the park, did the grandkids run up to another child before the parents could stop them? Does everyone wear a mask?

—There's no perfect. But greater vigilance should be hyped up for 14 days before a visit.

—The al fresco answer. The transmission risk is far lower outside than inside. But even outdoors, everyone should wash their hands and stay at least six feet apart (10 to 12 if anyone has a chronic health condition). Everyone over the age of 2 — and not just the grandparents — should wear a mask. Children are more likely to wear one if they understand that it’s to protect someone they love.

You've heard it before on the importance of masks, but here it is again from an expert with enough research and hands-on experience to know what he's talking about, Dr. Asaf Bitton.

“A sneeze without a mask can spread up to 20 feet. It’s also the act of speaking — we expel droplets even in quiet speech. The mask really contains a great amount of them. The mask is protecting all of us from each other.”

So in-person visits from grandkids who live nearby are possible for those of us lucky enough to have backyards or access to outdoor parks. But the hugging part–that will have to wait.