36 days of feelings
We’ve reached 36 days of isolating due to the global Covid-19 pandemic. And 36 days of feelings — all of them. I’m home, safe + sound with our family — and, as always, I have so much for which to be grateful.
We are rounding out our fifth week of school closures, working from home, home learning, homemade cloth masks, social distancing, video chats, and closely monitoring a dwindling supply of toilet paper. I miss our extended family. I miss our friends. We all miss the kids’ teachers + classmates. We miss our routines. And because of what can only be described as sh-t timing, we miss our dog.
Grief is such a tricky thing. Especially when it’s so nonspecific. I’ve never had to grieve a way of life before, never mourned something so commonplace as taking the kids to swimming lessons or taking my time at the grocery store. Grief is tricky because it rarely shows up alone. Grief brings along all those past hurts and losses living below the surface. The people we miss. The relationships that fractured. The places we don’t go anymore. The things we wish we had done differently. Grief shows up with so much in tow, and leaves it all over the front lawn.
I spent the first two weeks of isolation with a literal hurt hovering over my heart. When I finally got up the nerve to call my doctor, and I described the pain– she was like, You’re not having a heart attack. That’s grief + anxiety, ya ding dong. (She said it in a more compassionate, more medical way.) I wasn’t exactly surprised, but I needed to hear it from her. And I needed the reassurance that it was okay and good and important to ask for help. Maybe you need that gentle reminder too?
The flip side of all this is (and always will be) gratitude.
I can call my doctor and get the help and support I need. We have work. We are safe at home. We have enough. We have plants growing, a cardboard playhouse complete with battery-powered twinkle lights, a daily weather chart, and various other experiments brewing. I get to watch my children be wild and fresh and silly in the yard… and on their weekly classroom calls (I wish there were a way — maybe there is?– to record these things). We have teachers who love and miss our children, and who are working tirelessly to make home learning accessible and manageable. We have ways to be in meaningful touch with our family and friends. We have an unprecedented amount of time together– time for walks and meals and rollerblading in the basement. With nowhere to go, we no longer rush through our mornings.
We don’t really rush at all these days. And the slowing down, the being quiet– this means we get to feel it all so much more deeply than we did before. The grief and the gratitude. The fear and the hope.
I hope you’re feeling ok today. I hope you’re safe, and I hope you know I’m thinking of you all. You are loved + appreciated.
Also On Tap for Today:
- If you need some levity, I’m posting daily jokes on Instagram stories (saved to the aptly named Jokes highlight on my profile) — they’re kind of terrible, but hey…
- Listening to past episodes of Poetry Unbound (the poetry podcast from On Being studios) — episodes are short, timely, and moving and the kids’ meditations with Grace + Nicky on the Simple Habit app
- Picking up a curbside order of pansies from Cape Abilities Farm
What are you listening to or reading these days?
