The other day, I came across a shirt online that said something along the lines of, “My book is calling and I must go.”

If there were ever a shirt I needed to own during this pandemic, this is it. While things outside of our homes are anything but ordinary, I have found my own escape to normal times through the pages of some bestsellers over the last several months. From popular political tell-alls, to your run-of-the-mill romance, I’ve been ticking novels off of my seemingly-never-ending list of things to read at (for me) record-breaking pace. Some friends and I even started a book club (recently finishing our fourth book: The Nickel Boys).

Through the pages of these books, I have lived in Paris, off the coast of Maine, in the desert and on top of mountains. I’ve celebrated Christmas and Kwanzaa, and I’ve been on the solving end of some high-profile cases. In these worlds, things have been normal. People, like us, are hugging, shaking hands, going to concerts and living ordinary lives, fictional or otherwise.

Immersing myself into their stories has provided a respite from reality. Turning each page (or, really, clicking through to the next page on my Kindle), I dive deeper and deeper into this alternate world, full of normalcy and status quo.

While my own routine has been disrupted, I have been longing for the ordinary. I’d like to go have a happy hour with my friends, take a vacation with my new husband, or sit down with people in our community one-on-one for interviews again. I’m grateful for my own health and the health of my family, but I’m simply tired.

So, I’ll wrap myself up in my Snuggie on these cooler evenings, open up my e-reader, and go to all the places that we can’t right now. But first, I’m ordering that shirt.

 “Sniff.” You smell that? It’s almost fall, which means cooler weather, shorter days, and, this year, virtual learning. Never in my wildest imagination would I have dreamed up a scenario where my son would be starting high school at home, likely in sweatpants and socks, on his computer.

I’m nervous for our kids. The little ones, whose memories of beginning school will be of zoom meetings and muting themselves, are probably the most affected by this, and they don’t even know any different. I know I personally have been struggling with things; I can’t imagine what the kids are feeling.

This year has been crazy, right? And we are seemingly still in the thick of the craziness. But, amid all of the unknown and the flat-out weird, there’s been a lot of really amazing things, too. Our police and fire departments have found new and unique ways to serve our community. Neighbors have stepped up to help neighbors. Churches have discovered that the building is just one vessel for their ministries. It’s been interesting and fascinating to watch the transformations happen in every facet of our lives.

We weren’t prepared. Our schools weren’t ready. Our lives were busy and planned and scheduled to the max. If this pandemic has taught me anything, it’s been to slow down; take a breath and just let things happen as they will. I’ve learned that I can’t control everything in my world, as much as I want to, and that’s okay. I’ve been spending a lot more time at home, with my family, and that’s worth all of it.

So, as fall approaches, and the weather turns cooler, I’ll breathe it all in with a smile on my face and warmth in my heart. This, too, shall pass. It’s all going to be okay.