House Guests in the Time of COVID-19

Blog # 11

I moved to a new state in the middle of a worldwide pandemic. It was a surreal time to be starting anew. But I was entranced with my sunny, airy villa surrounded by palm trees in a pretty, resort-like development in southeast Florida. I enjoyed furnishing the new house with wall hangings and rugs and decorations, rearranging furniture, and then sending people photos when the rooms were complete. I loved the colorful landscaping surrounding my screened lanai, and I wanted to share my tranquil new life with family and friends.

Of course, nobody could see my new home in person. Everyone was being cautious and trying not to catch or spread the coronavirus. Florida was one of the states with lax guidelines and large numbers of COVID cases. So it was a bit of a dilemma figuring out whether and how to open up my house to guests.

I moved in with my dog Lex in July 2020, and for almost two months, the only people to set foot in my new home were my real estate agent and my handyman. And once, during a terrible, scorching-hot week when the air conditioning went out, I had a service guy in to fix the AC. I kept a tray of face masks, hand sanitizer, and disinfectant wipes near an entrance door. I really wanted visitors there, but I also wanted to be safe.

The good thing about the layout of my villa home is that it is a split bedroom floorplan, meaning that the master suite is on an opposite end of the house from the guest bedroom, den, and second bathroom. So it is a little easier to stay away from other people in the home if needed. This would prove useful in the near future when I started to have houseguests.

My first visitor was my oldest son, Jacob, who came for the long Labor Day weekend. I had received a negative COVID test result before he arrived. And at 23, Jacob was an introverted homebody and a bit of a germaphobe, so he had had very little contact with people that summer. On the airplane ride over, he wore his glasses and two masks and wiped everything down. I made sure that it was a nonstop flight from Washington, DC, to Fort Lauderdale, FL.

Jacob was the first person to sleep in my guest bedroom, and we had a great weekend together, going to the beach, getting seafood, and doing a drive-through animal safari because of the pandemic. I hoped to get him interested in Florida living so he would eventually move down to the area, depending on his job situation (still working on that!).

My next guests were two activist women from Northern California, who arrived on September 18 to help with a progressive cause before November’s presidential election. They were there to reach out to disenfranchised communities and spread the word about the Florida Rights Restoration Coalition, a grassroots organization helping “returning citizens” (former felons) pay their court fines and fees so that they could register to vote in the upcoming election. My new friends Tatiana and Isabel wanted to help fight the efforts of local Republicans (particularly Governor Ron DeSantis) to curtail these people’s right to vote. It was generally believed that these Florida citizens, mostly Black and Hispanic, would vote Democratic. The GOP was trying to suppress their votes. Tatiana and Isabel were aiding in the battle to “restore their voice.”

I was happy to lend my home and help my new friends in this cause. We only had until October 5, which was the deadline to get people registered to vote. Tatiana and Isabel stayed for a week, one sleeping in my guest room and the other in my den, which has a hide-a-bed couch, a small table, and a printer. They set up shop on that end of my house, creating and printing flyers, making big posters that advertised the help they were offering, and researching southeast Florida and the different people within it.

I was working full-time during that time period, so I couldn’t go out to canvass and advocate with them as much as I would have liked, but I did go with them (fully masked) whenever I could. I learned a lot from these resourceful women about reaching out to disenfranchised neighborhoods and speaking to a variety of people. We all learned about the Haitian immigrants who were plentiful in my county, and we enjoyed meeting and talking to these interesting and endearing people, who spoke Kreole and had delightful accents and personalities. It was an enlightening experience to get to know them, and the other residents around the area. We felt we made a difference getting through to them and helping them with their issues and questions about voting in the election.

The last night before my house guests were to depart, we went out for a farewell dinner and drinks at the outside courtyard of a casual, ocean-side restaurant. Tatiana and Isabel talked about how no matter what happened with the presidential election, they would “always have Boynton” — referring to my new town, Boynton Beach. A week earlier, on the day they had arrived, Ruth Bader Ginsberg had passed away. They both were very worried that week about the future of our country as they watched the news and learned about Ginsberg’s replacement, the far-right Amy Coney Barrett. We fervently hoped it would not cause the election to swing in Donald Trump’s favor.

(From left) Tatiana, Isabel, and me on our last night together.

But whatever happened in the next two months, we knew we had done our part for the Biden campaign — while helping to break down some of the barriers to voting for local Floridians — and that felt pretty darn good.

After my guests flew back to California, I didn’t have anyone stay at the house again until Election Day, when a couple from Virginia, good friends from my former home, arrived to ride out the election with me. They have a “snowbird” condo in Naples, FL, and drove from there to come see my new home and city. We all stayed masked in my house and car, except for when eating out on my lanai or when the car windows were down. We spent as much time outside as we could. The weather in Florida was just beginning to get perfect — the summer’s heat and humidity had gone away. We did a photo shoot out in the back yard in front of my palm trees, so that I could have new pictures for my blog and social media.

Next up was my sister Amanda’s visit. She arrived a few weeks later, in late November, just as the cold winter was encroaching on her home in the suburbs of Grand Rapids, MI. She had planned it that way. We spent five sunny, warm days together going to the beaches; driving to Little Havana, Miami; eating and drinking at local outdoor establishments; checking out the plethora of peacocks that gathered in a nearby neighborhood; and seeing other local sites and attractions.

Amanda and me

Our other sister, Alissa, drove down from Orlando for a little while, and we had a sisters reunion (minus one sister, Becky, who lives in the Chicago area). It was the first time we had all gathered in Florida together, and it was a nice backdrop for us to hang out in. Both sisters were also meeting my little dog for the first time, and it was great showing them my new home. And fortunately, none of us had or spread COVID. We played it safe with face masks and social distancing — a strange thing to be doing with one’s siblings. But that’s the way life is during a pandemic.

And in the category of strange activities for 2020: Amanda did a nice favor for me before flying home — she attached beads to the strings of all my cloth masks so that I could adjust and tighten them to my face. Most of my masks would typically slip down on my small face when I wore them out in public, and she had had the same problem. So we bought a little plastic bag full of multicolored beads at the local dollar store, and she had me pick out the colors I wanted to coordinate with my different-colored masks. It was a little craft project for her while we sat in my living room one night. Whoever imagined that this would be something we would be doing in our fifties! But it was a crazy year, and we took it in stride.

My next houseguests were my three kids, and they came for Thanksgiving week. My plan had originally been for them to come for a week at Christmas, but that plan got modified due to another situation related to the pandemic….

My widowed father was turning 80 in December, and at the beginning of the year he had been happily planning his big birthday celebration, in which he hoped to have his six children (four daughters and two stepsons) and their families all together for one weekend of celebrating at his home in Oak Park, IL. He was going to fly in family members from other states (including California) and host a big party. It was what he wanted most, ever since his second wife, my stepmother Gloria, had passed away almost 5 years ago.

But of course with the pandemic, and especially the second wave of COVID, it was not to be. Our family was not going to be one to have a super-spreader event. Instead, we planned a video tribute to him for his actual birthday (Dec. 3). The year 2020 had not been a good one for my father, as he sat alone in his condo for most of it. During the warm weather, he had been able to get outside at times, but as the cold Chicago weather closed in that fall, and his COVID fatigue and depression increased, my sisters and I tried to come up with a solution. Dad couldn’t have the birthday celebration he’d hoped for, and the national pandemic news was just getting worse. We needed to lift his spirits somehow.

I had a new home in Florida with an empty, nicely furnished guestroom, and I could use the company. Dad used to go to Mexico for three months every winter to escape the Chicago freeze, initially with Gloria but eventually alone, although he had several friends there who also arrived every year. But this winter, nobody was going to be traveling out of the country. Dad was planning to stick it out in his condo by himself. I knew that south Florida wasn’t Mexico, but it was almost as warm and tropical!

I discussed it first with my sisters, and then we brought it up to Dad. “Spend the winter months in sunny Florida! Dine alfresco again. Go for nature walks.” Eventually we sold it to him, and he agreed to fly to Florida to stay with me. The plan was for him to get a plastic face shield and KN95 surgical masks for the Southwest flight. Middle seats would be empty with that airline. He would sign up for “TSA Precheck” to avoid crowds at the airport security line, and he’d fly nonstop from Chicago to Fort Lauderdale. We all went over the details at our weekly family Zoom sessions.

Initially Dad wanted to stay in Florida for just six weeks, and to arrive after Christmas, so that I could spend the holiday with my kids for a week in my new home. He was worried about young people not being as careful at avoiding COVID as they should, especially since two of my kids were in college (and we all know how universities across the nation have done with that). He told me he wanted to arrive at my house two weeks after the kids left. We discussed possible dates for his arrival in January.

The more I thought about it, though, the more I began to think that Dad should not wait until mid-January to come to Florida. We knew he was dealing with pandemic depression, and I didn’t want him to be alone on Christmas. My sister Becky had been shopping for and bringing groceries and alcohol to him, but she didn’t go into his home. He used to have happy hour with family or friends on his condo building’s front porch, and a few meals out at restaurants with outdoor tables, but that was all over now that winter was fast approaching. It would be a very tough holiday season for him if he stayed in the Chicago area.

I brought up the idea to my kids, and then to my sisters and Dad, to change the timeline. I asked my kids if they could come out to stay with me for a week at Thanksgiving instead of at Christmas, and we would buy a tree the day after Thanksgiving to celebrate Christmas at the end of the week, before they returned to Virginia. They were fine with the change. Lucas and Rachel, my two college students, would not be returning to Virginia Tech after Thanksgiving break. The university would be closed until spring term, with the students finishing up the semester virtually, to lessen the chance of bringing COVID back to campus. So my kids could stay with me in Florida until the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

After we agreed on the new plan, I brought it up to the rest of my family. My sisters thought it would be great for Dad to come to Florida sooner, and to be with me for Christmas. We discussed it on our next Zoom chat, and Dad was on board. So it was decided. Over the next few weeks, and after some back and forth, Dad settled on December 12 for his flight out from Chicago, and he would stay for almost three months. We would have Christmas, New Year’s, and more wintertime events together.

But first, I would celebrate both Thanksgiving and Christmas with my three kids over Thanksgiving week. It would be the most people I would have at my villa home at one time. I had ordered an air mattress for the den, and Jacob, my oldest, slept in there every night so that he could have the big wide-screen TV for his shows and games. Lucas, 21, took the bed in the guestroom, and Rachel, 18, shared my king-sized bed with me, where she enjoyed having access to our beloved dog Lex, who liked to take over the bed at night (fortunately, he is tiny!).

Of my three kids, Rachel was the one most likely to have contracted COVID because of living in a residence hall at Virginia Tech all fall. But the freshmen hung out in friend “pods,” and the university regularly tested them for the virus. So far she was still negative, so we could be roommates for the week. Her brothers were very careful about not going out and exposing themselves to the virus, and always wore masks everywhere, so I felt pretty comfortable around them. At any rate, my plan was to get tested for COVID after they left and before my dad arrived.

This was each of my kids’ second time seeing the house, but Rachel hadn’t been there since we had come house hunting with my realtor. Lucas had flown out in June with me to meet the moving truck and help me set up things, before we returned back to Virginia. Only Jacob had seen the house fully unpacked and furnished. I was excited to share my new home and my new area with the three of them.

Over the week, we went to the beach several times, once with Lex; drove up and down the coastal road; viewed peacocks, egrets, and other avian wildlife; and dined out on the intercoastal waterway. Lucas and I grocery shopped together and he cooked the turkey for Thanksgiving from a gourmet chef’s recipe. We enjoyed a warm day outside among the palm trees taking photos on Thanksgiving, and later we had a great dinner and game night in my living room. I was so happy to have my kids there for the holiday. The year before, they were with their father and his local extended family for Thanksgiving, and I had spent it at a friend’s. This was a little nicer!

The next morning, Black Friday, the four of us got up and drove to Lowe’s to buy a Christmas tree, a tree skirt, ornaments, and other decorations. We set up the tree, decorated it, and then put our wrapped gifts below. Lucas’s gift to me, at my request, was to buy bags of mulch at Lowe’s, carry them to and from the car, and distribute the mulch evenly under the trees on my property. A great gift — something I was really needing as a solo homeowner for the first time.

On Saturday after a local beach trip, the kids rehearsed a musical number they were going to record for their grandpa’s 80th birthday. That week they had rewritten the lyrics to “That’s the Way the World Goes Round,” a great song by John Prine, who sadly had died earlier that year from COVID-related causes. Prine was a favorite of mine and Lucas’s, and we had seen him together at one of his last concerts, at Wolf Trap National Park in 2018. He also was from the western Chicago suburbs, my dad personally knew his brother Billy, and the song worked well as a tribute to their grandpa. They had asked me questions about everything that Grandpa liked, and then they wrote the lyrics all about him, being careful to make it exactly the same rhythm as the original. They purchased a music-only version of the song to play in the background on a laptop while I would record them with my iPhone.

Sunday morning, on their last day with me, we celebrated Christmas and opened the gifts under the tree. We ate leftover turkey and sweet potatoes from our Thanksgiving feast. That afternoon, it was time to record the video for their grandpa. They got in front of the Christmas tree and sang and danced, trying a few takes before choosing the one that they wanted to upload for the video gift that my dad was going to receive on his December birthday (he’d end up getting more than 40 videos in the final compilation from friends and family). I thought they did a fantastic job, and I was so proud of them. Their song would stay in my head for a long time.

The performance — Lucas, Rachel, and Jacob. Aren't they cute?

After the video was complete, their suitcases and my car were packed, and it was time for them to return home, I drove my kids to the Fort Lauderdale airport. It was the hardest good-bye of any of the visitors I had had at my new home that year, and I was feeling melancholy. We had had such a good week together in Florida, and I was really happy with the video they had worked so hard on. I wanted the visit to be longer. But it was time for them to go.

I pulled up outside the terminal, jumped out of my car, and hugged each of them tightly on the sidewalk. Back in the car I watched them wheel their suitcases into the automatic doors of the air-conditioned building and felt a little tearful and shaky. This was undoubtedly the hardest part of my living in Florida — being further away from my kids. But I’d see them again before long; they were just a two-hour plane ride away.

And now it was time to brush away my tears and get ready for the next house guest: My dad was arriving in two weeks, and I needed to put my house and guestroom back together, and get the place cleaned after the whirlwind of holidays with the kids. I planned to set up a cocktail bar for Dad in a corner of my kitchen, which he would appreciate. He would be staying for the winter, and I had lots of things planned. First off, scheduling COVID tests for me and then him.

I drove home from the airport along the scenic coastal route to my adopted new town and began to prepare for my next guest. It would all work out.

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