A day like any other day... except, YOU were there.

When I was little, this was my dad's favorite response to the trite question, "How was your day?" I always took it at face value: my dad was acknowledging that each day was like the last (and the next) and little changed that fact.

These days, though, very few are like anything any of us have experienced before. Each day is exhausting in its own both completely predictable and completely unprecedented way. I've come to joke about the 15,000 steps I consistently have before noon, thanks to a pre-dawn run followed by hours of weaving serpentine patterns between my high school students, reminding them to keep their distance and keep us all safe. Lily's now used to wearing her mask at all times except lunch (when she's on a cushion outside six feet or more away from each classmate), and she's become an expert at washing her masks in the sink with me twice a week to make sure we have fresh ones for each day. Jeff rolls out of bed at his 6am alarm and manages to not only make Lily's breakfast but also have a fresh mug of coffee in my hand before I walk out the door.

So, no, these days are not like any other day.

I never went to the first day of in-person school with my daughter and I both masked.

But I also never had the freedom to paddle board with my family when I got home at 4pm.

Never had the joy of so many (two- and four-legged) family night dinners around the table during the week.

And never knew how much fun playing hopscotch with a first grader practicing her numbers and balance could be.

Dad, it's not a day like any other day--not like any other day any of us has ever experienced. But it is a better day because of those who are by my side (even if "by my side" is the phone call to my Mum and Dad as we drive home from school or the "picture phone" call between Lily and her best friend in Germany or the distance play date with her neighborhood buddies). The WHO makes the WHAT bearable.

I'm grateful to all the "YOU"s, who, by being there, make it actually feel like it might just be a day like any other day.