April 24, 2020.
I had been dreading it. I was turning 17.
I grew up watching “Mamma Mia.” Turning 17 was nothing like Donna had described.
I was not feeling like a dancing queen.
We had only been about a month into lockdown. Everything was so new and scary. I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to see any of my friends or even some of my family.
The day came and I woke up and felt a heavy weight on my chest. The realization that I was turning 17 and couldn’t see my closest friends and family had hit me.
I got out of bed and went through the motions like it was just a regular day.
Brushed my teeth, changed out of sweatpants to put on a different pair of sweatpants, fed my hedgehog and went on what felt like our 100th family walk.
I was sitting on my front porch, playing with a piece of grass and wishing this day could go by differently.
Of course I was thankful to be with my parents and sister, but when you’re stuck in the house with them for a month, a change of scenery can be nice sometimes.
I pick my head up to the sound of crunching gravel and see five cars start to pull into my driveway.
Immediately I knew the looks of the cars and I saw all of my best friends turning into my driveway.
I couldn’t have been happier.
My parents had called all of them up to come and have a fire at my house – socially distanced of course.
We were all six feet apart.
Laughing, making s’mores, no phones, blankets wrapped around us. Everything felt, normal.
It went from being the worst birthday ever, to the best.