On Growing Something New — My Father's List

I don’t know about you guys, but I’m feeling all the feelings lately. And I’m tired as hell.

I turned 42 on Monday. And I couldn’t help noticing the seemingly extra lines around my eyes all day…then I remembered. Coronavirus.

Even if you don’t have the illness and nobody in your family does (and I’m praying every night and still trying to find ways to help those who do and the hospital workers healing them), this experience is taxing and tiring and stressful. For everyone.

So here’s what I resolved to do.

For the remainder of this stay-at-home order (which, as of today, is the case in 37 states), I’ll be posting on my blog at least once a week—if not more. I tried to keep my posting at a minimum for two years…I only shared something if it was a new interview or a photo shoot. And for all of Year Two, I wasn’t even taking those—orders from my previous agent.

My new agent is all for my doing this though, and I like the idea of being of service by chronicling my home-bound experience. I’ve talked to a local newspaper editor about doing a monthly column, too.

Over the next three months, I’ll be checking off a total of six list items. They are:

32. Make money on the stock market.

53. Be invited to a political convention (this one is already checked off technically, but I’m hoping to make it a presidential one).

27. Correspond with the pope.

42. Have my own tennis court.

25. Beat a number-one seeded tennis player in a tournament.

50. Plant an apple tree.

I already checked off the first one—I got a stock tip from my uncle, who’s an expert investor, and I made three cents on the day the stock market tanked two weeks ago (was it two weeks ago? it feels like two years). These list items always mean expecting the unexpected.

I’ve been working on making the presidential convention happen and might have some exciting news about that one soon.

Just seems like a good time to write to the pope—don’t you think? I found a website that explains how to do it and where to send your letter. I finally got my stamps in the mail the other day (can’t go to the post office), so I’m writing out my thank-yous to my list helpers the past few months. Maybe I’ll send a letter to the pope, too.

My tennis court will be a table-tennis court—my husband bought one for my birthday and it’s arriving soon. And he will be my number-one seed. We haven’t decided who has home court advantage yet. I guess nobody. I am more nervous about trying to beat him at table tennis than I was at tennis. Despite my foot injury and surgery two years ago (I tore a toe tendon on Day One on the tennis court), I was sure I’d come back and beat him this summer. But Steven is very good at Ping-Pong. We’ll be filming the matches and airing them here and on Instagram (@myfatherslist).

It won’t look like this—there’s no way to get this up the stairs! It’s a portable one…

And finally, “plant an apple tree.” I had this list item marked for September, hoping we’d do it in the yard of our future house (also a list item—”own a large house with our own land”). But then I learned that apple trees need to be planted in the winter or early spring. So last week I ordered dwarf gala apple seeds, and will plant them in the same pot that held my watermelon two years ago.

Growing an apple tree from seed is supposed to be challenging. Which is why I’m so happy my cousin has agreed to grow one, too! We’ll do it together!

I plan on eating those apples two years from now, when it finally fruits, when I come back from my Ironman-training runs with my husband. (I’m still 21-miler training; I’ll chronicle that as well as my progress on writing and selling my book and relearning piano—I’m working on “have five songs recorded.” The digital piano’s in the same room as table tennis! Too bad I can’t do both at once. Now that would be something.)

It felt good today to go out there and get my fingers in the soil. Just going outside feels good in general now, doesn’t it? But raking through the soil of that turquoise pot and removing the remains of what used to be my watermelon vine made me feel like I was making way for something new.

This is the perfect time to grow or build something. I think it’s the only way I can cope with all the illness, death, economic instability and scary news every day. I can’t think and wonder about what’s going to happen to me. That’s not how this project works.

I have to focus on what I’m going to make happen.

My words for 2020 were “faith” and “humility”—but I’m realizing now they’re “welcome,” too. Welcome to it all—the very bad and the very good. It’s always a mixed bag, this life.

What will you be growing?