Party like its 2021

Lillie (Athena) and Goddesses play Shut Pandora's Box

Helen of Troy and Aphrodite ready for the TP Toga attire

Due to a busy calendar, we decide to have my daughter’s 11th  birthday party on 9/11.  September 11th is a civics lesson to my kids, much as Pearl Harbor was for us.  
 
But if I dig deeper, I want a party on 9/11 because I want to block out the sadness. I am still grieving the loss of Homie and living with my parents’ decline. That morning, it dawns on me that the survivors from that day are also aging and dying of natural causes. My uncle, who worked in the South Tower, passed away a few years ago of a brain tumor. On an Amherst call that weekend, we remember our classmate Fred who was on one of the planes. He is forever young to us, while we who remember him now have wrinkles, or bigger midsections, or less hair, or achy joints. But Fred is frozen in time.
 
So a party it is – but not just any party: my erudite daughter wants a Greek Mythology-themed party. Party planning has never been my forte, and the closest I ever got to Greece or mythology when I turned 11 was that horrible movie Grease with John Travolta & Olivia NJ. (I say horrible because we tried to watch it a few years ago with our kids and the kids asked us to turn it off. “Everyone is so mean!!” they said. And they were right. How did I miss that as a kid?)
 
Realizing that we don’t have too many years left to plan a home party my daughter and her friends will like, we go all out. The party is epic: Greek mythology cards, Medusa Tag, Shut Pandora’s Box, Guess Athena’s M&Ms, Zeus’ Ice Cream Bar, TP toga Fashion Show judged by Helen of Troy and Aphrodite, Defeat the Minotaur (Apollo’s Karaoke sadly got axed by those sitting on Mount Olympus). After an epic scavenger hunt, everyone ends up in Poseidon’s realm, not wanting to leave the pool when the Guardians of their Galaxies arrive.
 
On Sunday morning, wanting to bask in the Grecian victory for just a day (I’ve never planned such a gathering before) all joy is diminished with Ali’s cough. And sneeze. And sore throat. There’s no such thing as the common cold in 2021.  
 
The next morning when Ali has no fever, but no sense of taste either, we keep her home from school, only to discover that there are NO rapid Covid tests anywhere in Albuquerque. No pharmacies of any kind have them (not even the home kits). Nor do urgent cares. It used to be easy to get COVID tests, pre-Delta.
 
Our pediatrician connects me to the COVID testing hotline (yes, it’s a thing). They can find no tests available for the next two days, and then results will take another 72 hours. When I remind them that she has 7 of the 11 COVID symptoms and cannot be vaccinated due to age, they refer me to another testing facility clear across town which has one opening. We jump in the car. I swab Ali’s nostrils in the back seat, deliver the kit to the outstretched grabber of the gloved and masked attendant and hope for the best.
 
We wait. And think pray. The news arrives the next day: Negative. Never has there been more rejoicing over the common cold.  We do not need to quarantine. 
 
If I were to tell you two years ago that I’d be keeping my child home because she has a cough, and then sending the overworked principal my kid’s lab results, you would have pegged me as neurotic and overprotective.  
 
But it’s 2021 now, and we’re making history.