About a month ago, when everything was just starting to hit the news, Rod was prepping and had prepped some already. He had been expecting what we have now–he said we should be prepared not to leave for two months, maybe even more–and here we are. I didn’t believe it. I thought he was being overly cautious and a little silly.
He has a big heart and he said, sadly, the sadness aching in his voice–“I can’t believe this is happening.” I said, “Well, it hasn’t happened yet. Don’t jump to conclusions!”
I’m sad now, too. It’s tragic and it still hasn’t even really happened yet. My heart is heavy. People are coping and not coping in so many strange ways. Nature blooms and doesn’t care, as always. Hopeful and grim.
I find I am adjusting to my new routine as a full-time stay-at-home parent and homemaker. Now that I have more of a routine I’m feeling much more stable, despite the dread of looking at the news every morning and the creepiness of so many once-normal aspects of life. We don’t go to the store at all (we get delivery only), but the line outside the store has people standing six feet apart from one another, many wearing masks. I wore a mask to my doctor appointment the other day, and most people I encountered had masks too. When I see someone else on a walk, I cross the street so that we won’t come into contact. When I walk around the neighborhood, I hear lonely people playing musical instruments out their open windows.
We are so lucky in all this; it may not be the life I chose for myself or the one I plan to have after this ends, but it’s manageable. I will do it as long as I must. My work is pretty much all canceled, so I can focus on the household and child. Because Rod already has a home office, he can work in there without bothering us and without us bothering him. No one in our house has to work full-time while caring for a child, which it seems is what most of my friends have to do right now. We are thankful to be where we are. We have the freedom to go on walks, we have a yard, our house has lots of windows with plenty of natural light, and our neighborhood is safe and clean. At the moment I’m so glad we’re not in a more chaotic or exciting place. This is a hard time for everyone, but we’ve got it good and I’m trying every day to remember that. I clean and cook a lot more. I have a few small things to do for work. But mostly I’m just at home. Taking walks. Baking. Reading. Cooking more elaborate dinners for everybody.
vCertain foods are not available now–lately it’s flour, eggs, and bread. Certain products are still unavailable, like toilet paper, any kind of disinfectant, and candles.
I think Rod and I both recognize this as a difficult time and we are being more gentle with each other. I try to take care of him even more than before, however I can. I am trying to also be gentle with myself and take breaks whenever I feel I need them, and ask for alone time when I need it, even from my child. I’m so thankful that this is my family. Some good will come of all this. Much good, perhaps, in ways we can’t predict.
Ambrose and Lola have both been inspiring, coping the best of all of us. I think Ambrose wonders why we don’t go to the park or the museums or the local gardens, but he’s happy. He plays and sings all day long, taking it all in stride.
Submitted by Katina Mitchell, San Mateo County -San Carlos.