This morning I turned on the TV and my 10 year old asked what we are watching. I said the news. She said, “why- its just people fighting each other”, and sickness. Not wrong.
Its coming up. The one year mark of it hitting pandemic status. I picked up my 9 year old from elementary school for the last time on March 5th 2020. From listening to the news reports you would think it was still something foreign, coming for us, but slowly. Still so far away. By the next day there was a sense of concern in their voice, an urgency to remediate this disease before it exploded. March 6 we tried to go to the zoo before Spring break got started in full force (yes I let the kid skip a day before break). There was a line of cars and buses to get in that wasn’t moving. The words from the news swirled around in my head and it clicked. We don’t need to be here. I did an obnoxious U-turn on a park street to leave, and we headed instead to Bath and body works. They had already put a limit on hand sanitizers. My kid loves hand sanitizers, but I explained the limit was there to help everyone so there wouldn’t be an argument. We got our 5 tiny hand sanitizers and left.
That weekend, my 9 year old became a 10 year old at a party at a jump park. Looking back feels foreign. Do you remember being inside buildings, without hesitation, without concern? Especially surrounded by children FROM DIFFERENT HOUSEHOLDS (WHAT?)
We went forward with the plan to have a sleepover here after the party. The next day, when the moms came to collect their young, it felt different than before. It felt like the end of an era. We hugged our friends goodbye, and haven’t hugged them since.
We visit on porches and in driveways. We wear masks. If we think we’ve had an exposure we don’t see anyone even with precautions for 14 days.
We are locked in a small house with each other and no one else. We are so tired of our small spaces and seeing the same faces, while still being grateful that they’re here to see. It’s a shitty realization we’ve had to come to terms with. You can get tired of people you love and still love them. A majority of our household struggle with severe depression and anxiety, as well as ADHD. And also there is a stir crazy toddler. You can imagine how much fun it is here on a day-to-day when there’s no light to the end of this tunnel.
Only online messengers keep all of us in touch with our friends and loved ones most of the time. Can you imagine if this pandemic was happening before the advent of video calling?
I’ve had to run into public buildings only a handful of times. Each time feels like what I imagine robbing a bank feels like. Mask on, check in the mirror its on right. Repeat in my head what I need. Repeat in my head do not touch your face, Do NOT remove the mask until you have sanitized your hands and are back in your car. DO NOT TOUCH. YOUR FACE. One time I walked into a building and was the only one wearing a mask. I aborted that mission walking out backwards to judgmental yet vacant stares. I’ve been in doctors offices lately where patients don’t have their masks on and not a word is said. It makes you crazy feeling like you care more than anyone else. It makes you feel crazy to see this level of cognitive dissonance. The actions I see in public simply do not match up with the number of dead, and long haulers, and the low number of hospital beds remaining in the area.
Our roles have all changed. My school age child is somewhat more responsible for their own education now. Teachers aren’t available in the same way as in-class. Learning suffers tremendously.
We are now the schedule keepers for class, the time managers of meals. And still, housekeepers, cooks, pet parents, landscapers, employees for corporations. Responsible for sanity and safety of everyone in the house, during an incredibly unsafe-feeling time.
There is only inside this house. When the weather is nice there are walks where the children cry the whole time. They ask for grandparents and friends. We cannot.
We are ruled by necessity. Driving only to the store or doctor appointments. Curbside groceries only.
I feel like I’m in an abusive relationship with all of humanity. The selfishness. The gaslighting. The trauma being inflicted.
A little less than a year ago I wrote about the hope that I suddenly had for humanity when we shut down commerce to limit the spread. It only lasted a few weeks, and I’ve watched in horror since then as people shout WHAT ABOUT ME?! SCIENCE ISN’T REAL. THOSE DEATHS OF YOUR LOVED ONES ARE A HOAX! It used to matter to me significantly that people eventually learned from their mistakes as time passed. But when the stakes are hundreds of thousands of lives gone, millions of people in mourning, countless left with physical limitations from viral damage and uncontrolled, unsympathetic spread- I don’t know that it matters anymore that they learn one day. The damage is limitless, and the error of their ways can not ever be fully undone.
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March 25, 2020
It's all changing so fast out there, isn't it? The epidemic went to pandemic and then lockdown in a few weeks.
My heart started skipping successive beats again. I am grateful that I got my xanax refilled right before things started getting crazy out there. It takes about an hour to kick in; maybe a few minutes less if I chew it or put it under my tongue before swallowing. It’s important to recognize how critical time feels when you're waiting for something important.
There is a poignancy in the juxtaposition of the pandemic's 'arrival' in North Texas. As i'm watching the case counts go up I am also given time to watch flowers bloom and leaves return to the trees with my children. We just passed the vernal equinox, headed toward days filled with more light.
We are resetting.
As we suffer and fear globally, stories of kindness, ecological restoration and even people reaching out across partisan lines to check on neighbors. People are offering to shop for others who cant or shouldn't be out. Like we are waking up to remembering the humanity that joins us, at least on this level. I love that. We are team human, not us vs. them. In isolated moments, I see people recognizing that more in the last few weeks than I have over the last few years.
It’s been quieter. Less cars, less air traffic. I swear the air feels cleaner outside.
We are waiting for answers. We are waiting for supplies.
Mindfulness can come from fear of the unknown. I have found myself feeling things deeper, tasting food more fully, and appreciating rare moments of peace more than before. I don't know what's coming. I can't fathom the many different paths the world will react with after this is over. But I know how much I love my family. I know how grateful I am that, for this moment, everyone remains well. When we emerge from this, I pray that we remember what it felt like to be afraid together.
How it felt to need to trust that everyone was going to do their part. To know that the future was no longer in your hands. To depend on your fellow humans for mercy and kindness.
In this season, we have a chance to do better. We need to take it. For the betterment of our quality of life, our families, our planet.
I pray we are changed. I pray we are moving towards the light.
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