I think this was the week reality started to sink in for everyone. The novelty of being at home was wearing off, the magnitude of how long this could go on was beginning to feel overwhelming, the ramifications that spread like endless ripples across the widest of seas were unbelievable.
Last Monday I wrote that I felt centered, was managing my routines and working on creative projects for stability, prioritizing a focus on self-care. Then on Tuesday, everything changed for me. Tuesday was the fourth anniversary of my mother’s death, and as I recalled that time of my life - another time that turned my world upside down and plunged me into profound grief - I realized how much thiswas beginning to feel like that. Loss and uncertainty mixed with disbelief, a sense of being out of control of one’s life and emotions, and yes, even anger.
Serendipitously, one of the first things I saw online that morning was this article. “There is something powerful about naming this as grief,” says David Kessler, a grief expert. “It helps us feel what’s inside of us. So many have told me in the past week, “I’m telling my coworkers I’m having a hard time,” or “I cried last night.” When you name it, you feel it and it moves through you. Emotions need motion. It’s important we acknowledge what we go through.” Throughout the week I began seeing other people write about feeling grief, and it helped to know I wasn’t the only one.
This was also the week that people began making homemade masks as health care providers reported running out of PPE (personal protection equipment – we have some new vocabulary words now, don’t we?) Our local hospitals are not accepting homemade masks, I’m not sure why. But the desire to help, to do something practical, is so keen for all of us sitting here at home. Even as we’re told the most important thing we can do right now is STAY HOME and be, as I like to think of it, Foot Soldiers in the Stay-At-Home Army.
On Thursday in the daily press conference, Dr. Deborah Birx noted that Michigan’s Wayne County was one of the fastest growing counties for new cases. That’s where we live. That was scary to hear. But what can I do that I’m not already doing? I have to put my trust in following the rules for safety. It’s the only thing I can control.
Friday night something happened that could have been apocalyptic. I took a flying fall off our front porch, landing squarely on both knees and my left hand and wrist. It happened when Lacey took off running out the front door, and I went tearing after her, completely missing the second step off our porch. I vividly recall my trajectory before hitting the ground, it really felt like I was in slow motion as you’d see in a movie sequence. I remember being more terrified of the possibility of needing to go to the ER than of what injury I might sustain. The gods were with me. Aside from some scrapes, bruises, and a hole in the knee of my favorite comfy jeans, no lasting harm was done.
I also learned the hard way this week that watching too many disparate news sources is not healthy. I spent a lot of time Tuesday watching TV, scrolling social media news stories, and generally going down one rabbit hole of anxiety after another. By the end of the day, my stomach was upset, my head hurt, and I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. Of course my first thought was that I was coming down with COVID-19. But then I remembered all the bad habits I’d indulged in that day, and vowed not to repeat those mistakes again. Less is definitely more when it comes to reading/watching/listening to news about this situation. For the rest of the week I carefully curated my news intake, and felt a lot better.
On a brighter side, I’ve had a coffee date and happy hour with friends, and online visits with my son and grandson in Dallas. It’s great to see their faces, even if it’s in a box on my iPad screen. Our daily neighborhood walks have been a joy. As the weather brightened up, people came spilling out of their houses, and we often find ourselves in the middle of the street standing in wide six-feet-apart circles of folks shouting at each other. It’s awesome.
It’s never lost on me as we live through this time just how lucky I am. We’re home, safe and sound. We’ve been able to get all the supplies we need. We had no plans that were upset by travel restrictions. So far everyone I love and care about is healthy, and just about as safe as they can be. (Although I’m particularly worried about a cousin who is on the front lines as a health care worker; worried about her mom, my 86-year old aunt, now quarantined in a rehab center in Georgia. I know their story is one of hundreds like that, and my heart aches for every one of those people.)
But going into this third week (dear God, has it only been two weeks??) I feel like it could be harder to keep my equilbrium. I will have to be vigilant about maintaining routines, walking a lot, eating well, staying away from excessive news, and doing my work. Reading and writing every day is such good medicine for me.
Last week I decided to begin this project of writing Dispatches From the Home Front with the thought of recording this experience for my own benefit. But my friend sent me a link to a project through a local college library archive that gives me a different spin on it. The college is asking citizens of the area to “record your daily experiences, thoughts, and feelings in diary form, either in writing or video, with the goal to preserve the stories of our daily lives during the crisis and to provide future historians, researchers, and students with information and data on life during the Pandemic.”
We are part of history right now, that’s for certain.
Stay home, stay safe, and be well.
How are you holding up this week? What are you noticing that’s new? What’s keeping you together? Are you preserving your experiences in any way?