Appreciating Extraordinarily Mundane Moments
William Maxwell’s They Came Like Swallows follows 10-year-old Bunny Morison as he and his family cope with the violence and death caused by the 1918 influenza. When writing this novel, Maxwell drew on his memories of losing his own mother during that pandemic. During our more recent pandemic, I read They Came Like Swallows as part of my thesis, reading and re-reading sections, placing post-it notes near important passages, and scribbling notes in the margins. Beyond my academic interests, I found camaraderie with Maxwell and Bunny; the focus on everyday, yet deeply personal and meaningful, moments struck a chord with me. Maxwell taught me to appreciate and find solace in mundane moments.
I gained this insight from the nostalgic, albeit melancholic, scenes where Maxwell recollects the small, ordinary moments from his life before his mother’s death. For example, at one point, Bunny sits with his mother at a window seat in their Lincoln, Illinois home. Nothing particularly noteworthy takes place, but Bunny still narrates the small details – patterns on the rug, slight noises in the house, and locations of items and furniture. Readers leave this moment with a feeling of comfort and solace because Bunny feels at peace and safe in his house. As I analyzed Maxwell’s use of his art to communicate and relive the most comfortable and wholesome times of his life, I looked at the ordinary items around my own home in a new light: the cobalt blue couch I insisted on purchasing, the plants near the windows, the bookcase that takes up a whole wall, pictures of my and my partner’s families. I appreciated my quiet home filled with items connected to my happiness and peace. I realized that these ordinary pieces of furniture, familiar books, and pictures from my favorite memories bring joy to even the most mundane days.
Despite finding happiness and peace inside my home, the glaring absence of my family felt heavy. Due to the pandemic and living in a different state for graduate school, I had not seen my family for almost two years. Maxwell’s narration reminded me of what I wanted most: time with my family. Just like Maxwell, I reflected on the small moments with my loved ones before the pandemic, and I longed for the minute details that always subconsciously comforted me. For instance, Maxwell’s window seat scene reminded me of spending Friday evenings with my family: After a stressful day, we shared work stories while eating takeout and listening to the local news. Maxwell’s text reminded me to appreciate those memories; while they may have been small, they were far from insignificant. Mundane experiences often carry the most comfort and solace due to their familiarity.
With newfound respect and appreciation for ordinary occasions, I met with my family via Skype and Zoom more often, and we reintegrated our Friday-evening-hangouts into our schedules. Just like Maxwell and his mother, along with the fictional Bunny and his mother, my family and I rejoiced in the small victory of spending time with one another. I learned not to take ordinary experiences for granted – a valuable lesson during an arguably terrible time in history. Almost an entire year later, in 2021, I safely traveled back to Las Vegas to see my family in person. Just as we did before the pandemic and my move, we fell into a comfortable pattern of conversations in the cozy living room, exchanging work stories, and discussing nothing and everything.
Kristy Barraza was a member of the Interactive Measurement Group from Spring 2016 to Fall 2017. She took on a variety of research and teaching roles, including being a teaching assistant for introductory statistics. After graduating with a dual major in English and psychology, she worked as a substitute teacher, completed her master’s degree in English, and worked as an Adjunct English Instructor at Arapahoe Community College.