It has been eight months since I’ve seen my mother. I miss her tremendously, but I do not think at this point it is safe to travel 3,000 miles by plane and rental car.

So I continue what I have been doing and make my morning phone call to my mother while I walk the dog.

A few years ago, when my dad was alive, we had plenty to talk about—doctor’s appointments, visiting nurse instructions, questions about his Parkinson’s and much more.

Up until the pandemic, we could talk about my mother’s daily activities, including time spent with her new great-grandbaby, excursions to the flower shop and visits with my sister and her children.

Now there is little to talk about. My mother’s life has become very quiet.

Due to COVID-19, my husband and I are at home a lot more these days. All that togetherness has given me time to reflect on how my husband and I manage change over time.

Of course, marriage created modifications in my lifestyle right from the start. Following in my mother’s footsteps, I felt responsible for having a home-cooked meal on the table each night. The house always needed to be clean enough for company. At least that is the standard I set for myself.

Early in our marriage I traveled all week for work. That left the weekends to do things. I suggested to my husband that I could cook for the week, or clean, but doing both would leave me no free time for us to enjoy together. He asked me which I preferred to do, and I said cooking.