And Now It’s Well Into April

“Every day is today.” Tom Hanks said that when he hosted SNL last night. It just rang true for me. I’ve had to ask several times, “What day is it?” I can’t keep track, and to be honest, what does it matter? Except that today is Easter. Not that I would be getting dressed up and going to church or anything, but I would be watching my grandkids chase each other around to find eggs their parents had “hidden,” the colors coded so that Mia, who is two years younger than Wyatt, would be able to collect hers and he his.

But to get back to my comment about every day being today and my having to ask…ask my husband, that is. We are quarantined together. So there is someone to ask, someone to cook for, someone to argue with, laugh with, someone to hug. He’s someone to decide with as to which project we’ll tackle next, what to cook for breakfast and dinner, what to watch on Netflix or Amazon Prime in the evening. Because we are in agreement about this one thing: no TV news blaring all day long. Or at all. It only ramps up the anxiety. I would have lost what mind I have left had I been forced to endure Trump’s daily press briefings. It’s bad enough that I get the gist of them second hand the next day online via the Guardian or  NPR.

I think I saw the kids last (physically) on my birthday–March 2nd. I turned 80, and they came over with balloons, cake and hugs and kisses and messages of love. Something I hope I didn’t take for granted, because right after that it got serious, and my daughter wisely decided not to let them bring their daycare germs to us. They go to nursery school with kids whose parents have essential jobs and can’t stay home. Here in our little town I don’t think there are any infections, but it’s closing in on us with some counties nearby reporting cases. If I get it, I don’t want to go to the hospital. I want to stay home and stay out of bed as much as possible. If it’s going to get me, I want it to have to find me–upright and breathing deep breaths, fighting until my last one.

I sent out electronic Easter cards with this message: “May we all be humbled by our own vulnerabilities, inspired by the generous and self-sacrificing actions of the heroic people in our midst, and motivated to do better and be better for the rest of the time we have.” Terrible tragedies are already being reported about deaths–people having to die alone without human touch–about fear and hunger and an inability to put distance between them and others–among the less fortunate of us. I hope we are able to do something about the inequities we live with some day.

Because good, too, will come of this. It will. We’ve hit the pause button. That has to allow us to learn something–about our selves, our loved ones, our neighbors, our cities, states, countries, and our planet. If we’re capable of change, this would be the venue from which to begin.

Happy Easter, everyone.