Ah, the smell of an incoming rainstorm that will be followed by a sunny, warm day – or maybe that’s just the rural Midwesterner in me.
But that’s what immediately comes to mind when I think about the month of April – weather. It’s not March, because the threat of snow is over (usually), but it’s certainly not May, whose stable sunshine we never seem to fully enjoy. No, April is its own beast, one that extends far beyond its ever-changing weather patterns.
April in grade school and high school was always a packed schedule – in fact, I don’t know if my memories are of April or are actually of May, now that I ponder it. But it was definitely full of sports – track and field, soccer, softball – with swim lessons just around the corner, and definitely broke the cabin fever of another endless, stuffy winter inside.
But in college, April is a race you don’t want to lose or get trampled during. Professors seem to remember that they have to assign group projects and papers – locking students in the library when they desperately want out. It might have Easter Break, breaking any momentum built since Spring Break. And suddenly, it’s full of free events – concerts, contests, and food abound during the month of April.
And then: April is over. Somehow, you survived the endless list of assignments (and did so with all of your group members also still intact), and it’s May. That graduation song (that’s now also playing in your head) never seems to stop; flowers and trees (and pollen) are in full force; and summer sunshine and freedom are inching ever-so closely into your palms.
But this year, the month of April brought some baggage: continued social distancing and city and state-wide lockdowns, online classrooms, strange media consumption, and panicked hospital systems. It’s exposed the gaping wounds in our economic and political systems, regardless of the fact that our country as a whole doesn’t seem to want to truly talk about or address these issues.
April is dressed nicely, however, with its unrelenting support of nurses and healthcare workers and other employees deemed necessary; with its true signs of humanity showing up in birthday parades, chalk-covered drive-ways, and generosity like no one has seen in their lifetime; and with our final realization of the true nature of technology and social media: to stay connected.
It was as I was sitting with my counselor (over a form of Zoom, of course) that I realized what a month in time can truly feel like. See, April 8 was a month since my birthday, and apparently the first positive COVID-19 case in the US.
So much has happened in such a short period of time for me: I spent my first week of being 21 working and without any true celebration; I decided to stay in St. Louis to continue to work and provide some form of stability; I found out that SLU wanted to put the needs of the community first, that moving was eminent, and made the quick and somewhat rash decision to come home; I spent an entire week sleeping, with my entire life still unpacked in the living room; I was triggered by being home and ended up spending a week completely socially isolated – not talking to my best friends at all (and lowering my average screen time by almost 4 whole hours); I had completely forgotten what classes I even registered for in the fall; I became legitimately nocturnal, much to my parents’ distress.
But then, I unpacked. I reorganized. I settled. I slept when the sun was down. I figured out a new schedule, a new normal. A better normal, honestly. I can’t work (and there isn’t work available), so my focus is school and functioning. I ran out of things to do, and finally had to do the things I’d been pushing off – going through old, sentimental t-shirts simply taking up physical space; facing some demons head-on, clearing mental space; asking if friendships sparked joy, clearing emotional space. My schedule and life have never been so empty – and I absolutely love it.
If you asked me in February how I thought I would be doing in April, I couldn’t have came up with our current reality or my current state in any of my wildest (and they get pretty crazy) dreams. But, coming home, taking a breather, and clearing my space and schedule ended up being exactly what I needed.
This isn’t the April anyone asked for, or even thought of for that matter. But it is the April we have been given and I’m beginning to realize how freeing it is to roll with whatever April – or any other month – decides to throw at us next.