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Day 26: Keeping the Faith

meanderingthroughmidlife

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It’s the night before Easter and all through the house…wait, wrong holiday, or is it?  It wasn’t until I was older that I grew to understand that Easter is truly more important than Christmas.  Mind you, growing up, I was a Christer, a Christian who went to church mostly on Christmas and Easter.  That is unless my mom dropped me off at  church with Nana so she could get the grocery shopping done.  Now, I not only go regularly, but I am involved in ways I never would have thought if you told me this was going to happen twenty years ago.

Easter is about resurrection.  It’s interesting when you break down the word.  Surrection relates to geology, typically meaning upheaval, such as when mountains come up through tectonic plates.  The suffix -ion denotes an action, or condition.  It is a noun suffix.  And the prefix RE means again.  So in a way, resurrection refers to the act of creating an upheaval again, a rising up of something from the earth.

Maybe Covid 19 is the catalyst for such a resurrection.  We needed to sit down in order to be raised up, raised up enough to understand the value of caring for one another. Raised up in order to recognize life’s priorities.

I love the news stories where they highlight people who have gone out of their way to care for those who are frightened, alone, or in need.  Some companies are donating money to food banks.  Some people are buying groceries for their neighbors who are now shut in.  And thanks to technology, such as Google Hangouts and Zoom, we can connect with friends and loved ones we have not seen in a while.

Being forced to slow down our pace of life coerces one to contemplate. It’s hard sometimes to look in the mirror and see not just the made up parts of ourselves, but the cracks that are beginning to show underneath.  Our priorities become etched in ourselves during trying times like these.

It is not easy to remain faithful and hopeful right now. I have been disheartened hearing, or reading the news.  I was hoping NJ would be able to lighten restrictions by the end of May.  Now there seems little hope that will happen.  Our governor speaks of the peak being in mid May, which means we would be at home through June at least.  I worry for the economy.  I worry about our income.  I worry about a family member passing away and not being able to say goodbye.  I worry a lot these days.  It’s hard not to.

I cling to my faith not because I expect God to fix everything, but because I hope for the strength to endure this trial.  But practicing your faith on your own is much different.  It is especially difficult when you can’t physically gather and engage in those rituals that mark tomorrow, such as Easter hats, egg hunts, special greetings.  But the faithful are finding new ways, whether they are Christian, Jewish, Muslim, or Buddhist.  We have to.

So dear Reader, if you are celebrating tomorrow, Happy Easter.  If you celebrated Passover, I hope your virtual seder went well.  And good luck to you who are about to embark on Ramadan’s month long prayer and fasting.

And if you don’t ascribe to any faith, please stay hopeful.

Namaste

 

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Day 25: Venturing Out ….Again.

meanderingthroughmidlife

got milkOf course, on the one day I went shopping this week, which was Monday, I didn’t buy milk.  My DH is the only one in the house that drinks it, and only with cereal in the morning.  So when I ventured forth unto Shoprite last Monday, I wasn’t thinking about needing milk. I had bought a half-gallon the week before, and just how big are our cereal bowls?  But I forgot that we are living in the Upside Down Inside Out.

By Wednesday morning there was no milk in the house.  Part of this was my fault, I suppose.  I had chosen to make French toast for dinner the night before, along with ham, egg, and cheddar muffins.    DH dumped the last drops into his cereal and looked at me with sad eyes.

The last thing I wanted to do was go out again.  My nerves have been a bit shot this week. NJ is tightening restrictions again.  And at this moment, I thought about saying “Get it yourself,” but I have been the only one out and about these past weeks.  It wouldn’t make sense sending DH.  Plus, he’s been working.  I’ve been sleeping.

First, I called a neighbor, the one who picks up groceries for the older ladies on the street.  I thought if I could beg hard enough, he might say yes. Which he did.  But by 8:00 p.m. we still didn’t have milk.  At 8:05, he texted to apologize and said he would go the next day.  That didn’t happen either.

I felt that I had overstepped my neighborly boundaries by asking. So today, I decided to do errands.

First stop would be the post office to drop off some bills.

Second would be the bank, which you have to use the drive through these days for any transactions.

Third was up in the air.  Did I want to go to Rite Aid, which is close?   Or did I want to go a bit farther to Target?  There I could pick up a few things, and spend some time wandering.

Fourth: a trip to Dunkin Donuts. Friday treat: two coffees and a doughnut for Munchkin.

The first leg of my journey was easy.  The second a bit more trying.  I had a hard time getting the canister out of the bank’s tube.  I almost dropped it, forcing me to stretch a bit too far out the window of my SUV.  Mind you, I had the seat belt on.  I was mortified as I managed to pretzel myself, twisting my shoulder into an unnatural position, my fingers clinging to the canister top, willing it not to fall to the ground beneath my car. When I was done, my shoulder ached and I had broken a sweat.  The car behind me moved over to the other lane.  It was a mortifying experience to say the least.  Sore and embarrassed, I decided on Rite Aid.  Before getting out of the car, I donned my butterfly mask and quickly fogged up my glasses.  It took me about fifteen minutes to decide which milk to buy, and to wander a bit.  A glance at my watch told me it was nearly 10:00 a.m., and I knew DH was waiting for his milk, and his coffee.  The last leg of my journey went a bit smoother.  I’ve learned that the owners of this drive -through D&D love the phone app, which I had installed a few days ago. There was a small line when I pulled into the store.  But the time I had left, the line spilled out onto the highway.

I headed home.

DH was happy to have the coffee, but the milk remains unopened tonight.

Going out today was a masked adventure, and despite everything, I’m inclined to venture forth tomorrow.  While things are dire, FEAR doesn’t help.  Going out wasn’t the worst thing I’ve done.  Even if it was for moo milk.

Namaste.

 

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Day 24: Spending Time and Losing It

meanderingthroughmidlife

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What you’re lookin’ at in the photo is QBMaze.  Today I spent some time with Munchkin building that thing.  Truthfully, he built most of it.  I could hardly figure out how to put the blocks together.  Munchkin stunned me by his brilliance.  He had no problem imagining this and executing it.  The blocks are a bit tricky.  Some of them have openings on one side.  Some have openings on both sides.  Some have openings on the bottom.  The objective is for a marble to go through a constructed path and end up where you want it.

Unlike our lives during this pandemic.  We have no or little control.

Spacial relations are not my thing.

But they are Munchkin’s.

I lost track of time as we worked together with trial and error to make our creation do what we want.  At one point, Munchkin’s Ipad started ringing.  He didn’t answer it saying his friend could wait.

At first I was excited that he thought I was such good company. But then I realized that he was just in the flow of building.  It comes naturally to him. And having Mom around wasn’t so bad too.

That’s how today went.  Unstructured, flowing time.

And I grew to be okay with that.  My monkey mind was yelling that I should do this and do that.  But my soul just wanted to slow down.

I was feeling a bit down.

And that’s how these days seem to go for me.  One good.  Two okay. One good. Half bad.

So instead of focusing on how I feel about Covid 19, I let time flow.

Glad I did.

Namaste

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Day 23: Wow….is this a bit of happiness?

meanderingthroughmidlife
selective focus photo of white flowers
Photo by Mydarr on Pexels.com

I slept horribly last night.  Absolutely horribly.  Not only couldn’t I stop my racing thoughts, a thunder storm hit New Jersey about 3:00 a.m.

So why am I happy?  At least I think this is happiness.  It started by begrudgingly crawling to the basement after two cups of coffee and looking for dance work outs on YouTube.  I decided to try one, or at least part of one, and for twenty minutes I shook my butt despite the heavy scent of crappy cat litter wafting above.  Then I pulled out my exercise ball, and a couple of free weights.  Rolling on that stupid ball may be a bit dangerous for a nearly 50 year-old with a once busted knee, but it is also hilarious.  Anyone remember hippity-hop?  God, I loved that thing as kid! Just as I liked Big Wheels, and Chinese checkers.

So after about 35-40 minutes, sweaty and smiling, I went back upstairs.

It’s Wednesday.  Two days left of Spring Break.  And I needed to get a better grip of what I am planning for next week.  So I pulled out my school stuff, textbooks, IMLs, skill list, and IPAD.  I knew I wanted to teach some poetry when I stumbled upon “Because I Could Not Stop For Death” by Emily Dickinson.  And this led my to the show Dickinson on Apple TV+.

I was intrigued, and happy to learn I could watch the first episode for free.  I loved it.  I loved it so much that I started thinking about Emily Dickinson differently, and even signed up for a free week of Apple TV.  Why?

Well yeah, we just cut the cord, code for breaking up with cable, but the show yanked me in and held my attention so well that for 35 minutes I wasn’t living in Covid 19 world.  I was somewhere else.  That is priceless in times like these.

There was one more piece of hope. Wuhan has lifted its restrictions after 76 days of being locked down.  76 days.  We are in Day 22 here in New Jersey.  While the US is not China, Memorial Day could be NJ’s new Independence Day.  COULD BE.

I am not saying that it will be.  But it could.

If you glance at all the headlines in the news you might think “no way”.  But it is possible. Can you imagine it?  Being able to see friends and family, go to the park, or to the movies?  Can you imagine going swimming in a public pool? Or, this if for you parents, sending your kiddos back to school?

Don’t scoff at me yet.  These past few months should have taught us one thing: nothing is impossible.

So let’s hope for this positive possibility.

Namaste

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Day 22: NJ Closes State and County Parks, and I Have to Say Goodby to My Soul Space

meanderingthroughmidlife

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Today was a slow day.  I woke up late, putzed around on the internet, cleaned a bit, discussed life with DH.  It was a beautiful day with bright blue skies, crisp air, and the sound of birds.  I meant to go out, but after a few hours of cleaning, I gave up and settled for sitting in my backyard.

A bit after 5:00, I noticed my friend had texted a link, and as soon as I opened it, my heart cracked just a bit.  NJ would close the parks at 8:00 p.m.

So I ditched my DH and Munchkin and promised to bring dinner home as I dashed to my car to drive the mile to my favorite park’s entrance.  I found one of the few remaining spots, seems like I’m not the only one horrified that it will be closed, grabbed my phone, keys, and Skull Candy, which I shoved into my ears as I crossed the wooden bridge into my Soul Space.

I haven’t felt the Stay At Home mandate as much as others because of my frequent trips to these trails.  There are three to chose from.  One is paved and meanders a ways into a larger park in the next town over. The paved path has trees, shrubs, and flowers on both sides.  But on the left there is a river whose gurgling noise brings me peace.   Two are hiking paths that go along a canal.

For the longest time the paths were nearly empty.  Then the advent of Covid 19 made it suddenly popular.  For that hour that I would walk, I didn’t feel the pandemic’s shadow.  People would nod at one another.  Some would smile or say hello.  A few would wear masks made of different things.  Many walked dogs.

As I walked, I would talk with a close friend who is not leaving the house.  Often I would send her pictures.  Or I might listen to a podcast, or music.  Either way, the hour out of the house was soothing.

Being told I can’t go to my sacred space triggered a bit of fear, and resentment.

Today I took lots of pictures.  I have been tracking how Spring has sprung into green golds and given birth to little white and yellow flowers in the woods.   Now, I won’t see what happens next.  But I know that Nature will flourish in our absence.

And I can always walk around my neighborhood.

Even though it won’t be the same.

Namaste

 

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Day 21: Snipits of Headlines and Other Sordid Things

meanderingthroughmidlife

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Last night I was sitting outside in our yard with a fine beverage and my family.  DH had loaded the chiminea with wood, albeit damp wood, and we set the first fire of the season in our modest backyard.  It was beautiful out.  Cool. No bugs. Nearly perfect, except for Covid 19’s shadow.

A friend texted me and noted that the President was about to address the nation.  It was nearly 7:00 p.m. on Palm Sunday night.  I chose to stay outside and catch up on the headlines later, not because I don’t care, but because my anxiety is like Gossamer from Bugs Bunny.

It was a few hours later when I caught the clips by skimming through the news feed.  The first was of Trump advising Americans to go home to pray.  The second, was Dr. Birx telling Americans that “this is not the time to go grocery shopping or pick up medications.”

My stomach dropped. My palms started to sweat.  My heart beat so hard behind my rib cage I thought it might burst.  Go home and pray?  No food shopping or getting meds for two weeks?  But I’m supposed to pick up my refill tomorrow! We don’t have enough food for TWO weeks.

This haunted me as I got ready for bed.  My brain ran through all different permutations of what could happen today.  Morning doctor appointment.  Deal with the cable company.  Food shop?  Pick up refill after 3:00 p.m.  And then there was that nagging what I am supposed to remember?  Oh yeah, get in line at bank drive through for cash.  (ATMs are closed).

This must be armageddon.

Today was beautiful outside, the best day so far of the year.  And I dashed from errand to errand like a lunatic.  Worse, I blew through money at the grocery story to “stock up so I wouldn’t have to go out again for the next two weeks” at a frightening rate.  By the time I finished, my face was sweaty from my mask. My stomach was in knots. And I finished my errands….all on a day when I was supposed to not go out at all.  This added more stress.

Did you know that stress weakens your immune system?

A week ago there was no directive to wear face masks in public.  And while I had stocked up on groceries two weeks ago, as directed, my family and I ate it.  We are home after all.

All I want is for clear directives given with plenty of time to react accordingly.  It feels that we have been bouncing back and forth on directives for a while, which adds to the chaos.  If you don’t know something, don’t make up bullshit to make it look like you know.

If I am not so stressed, I will make better decisions as a citizen.  Maybe I’ll even splurge on take out.  And I will feel better and want to go out of my way to help others.

Covid 19 is scary.

But our response doesn’t have to be.

Namaste

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Day 20: When Covid 19 Knocked on the Door

meanderingthroughmidlife

I have a really bad habit.  Just before going to bed, I’ll check out the news….one last time. I know what you are thinking….are you crazy?  That’ll give you nightmares.  Truthfully, I’m just looking for good news, something that might indicate this hell is nearly over.

So last night, after being up much too late, I opened NJ.com.  And the third or fourth story down had a headline that read something like “6 Dead. 24 Infected.  Essex County Retirement Community is epicenter of Covid 19.”  And beneath the headline was a picture of the entrance to a building I am intimately familiar with: my Nana’s nursing home.

Nana will be 101 years-old this year.  Just last week my aunt and I were discussing how Nana changed her mind about burial arrangements.  I know we are on borrowed time.  But that doesn’t change the fact that I am heartbroken that I haven’t been allowed to see her in a while, and usually, my son and I visit this week, our Spring Break.  I dread the thought that I might not see her before her time.

My heart plunged when I saw the picture, but being close to midnight, it was too late to call for details.  I tossed and turned all night, waking up a bit before 6:00 a.m.  I got up and walked about and found myself sitting in what had been Nana’s rocking chair.  Then I texted my aunt, willing her to wake up and get back to me.

She didn’t.

I went back to bed, my mind racing.  Somehow I fell asleep.

When I woke up again, it was nearly 8:00 a.m. My aunt had not returned my text.  So I decided to take matters into my own hands. I called the nursing home, whose receptionist seemed surprised I was upset.

“Your facility is only on the front page of NJ.com!” I said, exasperated.

Moments later, I spoke to the nursing station in assisted living.  She assured me that Nana was her usual self: tough.  No Covid symptoms.  I am utterly grateful.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Right now, Nana is okay.  I would love to call her, but she is so hard of hearing, it’s often a one-way conversation.  And she is so good at making you think that she understands what you are saying.

Our officials say the next two weeks will be BAD.  There is an irony to this, as we Christians begin Holy Week.  And my Jewish friends celebrate Passover on Thursday.

Usually, I am busy with family and friends this time of year.  I volunteer at our church with Easter preparations.  My aunt and I discuss getting together for dinner.  I take time to visit friends for lunch, or hang out after dinner. This year my family and I will be alone, albeit with each other.  No Easter egg hunts. No hanging out with friends. No family visits.

Tonight I am at a loss for choosing what to make for Easter.  And fearful to go to the store.  DH said we don’t need to eat anything fancy, but Easter is such an important holiday that it feels wrong to not try to have some of our rituals.

The last question I asked my aunt when I spoke with her today was whether or not I could send Easter flowers to Nana. My aunt wasn’t sure if it would be allowed.

I am disheartened.

You never know when Covid 19 might come and knock on your door.  Many of you may already know someone who has the virus.  Some of you may know someone who has died.

So hug your loved ones, readers.

Namaste

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Day 19: Let’s Zoom?

meanderingthroughmidlife

yellow sphere illustration

Dear Readers,

How many of you have played with the Zoom platform during the past couple of weeks?  I know that I have more than one meeting via Zoom, and never thought much about it’s security until last night when I experienced a Zoom Bomb.

Heliosphere, an awesome Con that was supposed to take place this weekend in Tarrytown, NY, had done something extraordinary.  The organizers chose to provide the public access to the remote panels via Zoom.  And I was thrilled!

So last night I logged into Zoom to listen to panelists discuss the Horror genre and its impact.  A few times throughout the hour, you could hear voices interrupt the panelists with vulgar words and comments.  At one point they took over the screen and inserted a lewd image. To the panelists’ credit, they maintained their professional demeanor and ignored the infantile behavior.

The intruders sounded like bored college kids.  And I couldn’t help but wonder why they would choose to interrupt someone else’s virtual chat in such a crude manner.  Didn’t they have anything better to do?  Come on! Here is a group of people trying to connect to discuss their passion for writing, and some jerks have to interfere and try to wreck it?  Don’t we have enough crap going on right now?

The interlopers reminded me just how awful we can be to one another. I couldn’t help but picture the Spring Break Brat who bragged “If I get Cor

ona, I’ll get Corona.”

We are all in this together.  And if Zoom can provide people an opportunity to connect when they can’t leave their homes, or can’t travel, let them be.

Thanks to Heliosphere for providing such a wonderful opportunity.  Hope to see you all next year.

Namaste

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Day 18: Masked and Breaking Curfew

meanderingthroughmidlife

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Of course today was the day that our fearless leaders changed courses on masks, and wouldn’t you know that I felt compelled to go the grocery store?

I left for Wegmans just after dinner, after scrounging around for some kind of mask.  Last night I was able to order a few off of Etsy, but it will be a little while before they show up in my mailbox.  It was misting outside.   The gray sky darkened.

As I pulled into the parking lot, I looked toward the entrance for the notorious line of waiting shoppers.  A couple of friends had warned me in advance that Wegmans was restricting the number of customers allowed inside.  There was no one by my familiar entrance, so I rushed to park.  It was only just as I was a few yards away that I noticed my entrance was blocked off.  Signs said to go to the left.

That’s when I saw the line.

It was 7:10 p.m.  I knew that the store would close at 8:00, the same time as NJ’s “suggested” curfew.  The mist was getting heavy, and I wished for my umbrella. The wait wasn’t too long…maybe ten minutes.

Today there were no wipes for the cart. But there was hand sanitizer waiting by the door.  Once inside the entrance, I realized how different things were from last week.  There were many empty shelves and bins.  I had to figure out what was the most important items on my list and dash to those aisles first worried about time.

Most wore masks.  A few gloves.  One woman wore yellow cleaning gloves, just like the kind my mom would wear when she cleaned our childhood home.  The few who weren’t covered up either looked down, or shoved their shoulders back and spoke loudly, as if daring the rest of us to say anything.

A man would announce every five minutes the time and proclaimed that the store closed at 8:00 p.m., but it would be open tomorrow.  Each announcement pushed me faster down one aisle, then another, scanning my list and trying not to get distracted.  In the cereal aisle I had to ask for help getting Cocoa Krispies. This nice tall, maskless guy obliged me.  At 7:50, I felt ready to get in line.

But then I remembered that I needed fruit snacks for my quarantined tween.

It took me another five minutes to find them.

Then I dashed back into the checkout line that snaked past the cashiers and into the alcoholic beverages section of the store.  Being a bit stressed, I couldn’t help but gaze at the different beers, then the rows of wine bottles.

It was 7:57 by the time I reached the end of the line, and was instructed to aisle 16.  The cashier was exhausted.  She didn’t want to see me, or anyone else.  I figured she would have given anything for there to be no more customers so she could gather her belongings, and go home.

So I smiled.

She scowled a bit at the amount of stuff I had placed on the conveyor belt compared to my tiny cart.

I still smiled.

She gestured me forward to ask for my ID… one of the reasons I love Wegmans.  It’s not like I get carded any more.

By the time things were precariously perched in my petite cart, it was a little after 8:00 p.m.  I let my mask drop as I pushed the cart through the rain to my car.  The parking lot was nearly empty.

Driving home was weird. I had this feeling of doing something forbidden, yet there were lots of other cars on the road.  It reminded me of how often I have felt that we live in two worlds: those who are sheltering in place, and those who are not.

Now I’m not blaming anyone.  Not at all.  But it was not the first time that I felt how oddly normal the world seemed when I left the house.

Things feel disjointed.  Time has little meaning these days.  And the stress is ubiquitous.

Hope things get better soon.

Namaste

 

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Day 17: To Mask, or Not to Mask. That seems to be the question of the day.

meanderingthroughmidlife
man in red shirt wearing mask
Photo by Josue Ladoo Pelegrin on Pexels.com

I’ll admit that during the first grocery trip I made during the pandemic, I scoffed a bit at those who wore masks and two- layered plastic gloves.   Sometimes I see people wearing them on the trail where I still walk (gratefully).  But I hesitated to get on the mask train.

First I read that it would not protect me from the virus, unless it was the medical grade mask that the healthcare workers so desperately need.  Wearing a mask seemed more of a reminder to not touch your face, rather than protect your fate.  And then there were the stories about South Korea and mask wearing.  Later, Dr. Fauci made a statement (yesterday) on CBS evening news about if there were enough masks for everyone, especially those on the front lines, then he would suggest we should all wear one (my paraphrasing).

What?  What did he mean?  It seems he was concerned that if he made the recommendation for everyone to wear masks, then those who needed them the most wouldn’t get one.  I could conclude that human greed prevented Dr. Fauci from making the suggestion.  But did that mean that I should make/buy one?

I spent a bit of time looking on line on how to DIY a mask.  And the biggest problem I have is one: my lack of sewing skill, and two: the lack of available materials.

Remember when hand sanitizer and its components flew off the shelves?

Eventually, I settled on Etsy.

Hopefully they will show up soon.  But I didn’t order enough for the entire family.  I wasn’t thinking about that until today I read that De Blasio recommended New Yorkers to begin wearing masks regularly.

I bet if I went on Etsy now, I wouldn’t be able to buy masks anymore.

And that is part of the problem with how we are dealing with this pandemic.  It seems that the information one day contradicts the information the next.  There doesn’t seem to be a real plan, or even a long term plan, on how we are going to get through this.

Instead, if you watch the news, or read it, preferably not from social media, you see the grim stats.  Today there were one million infected humans.  6.5 million Americans have filed for unemployment.  And 537 people from New Jersey have died from the virus making corona virus the most common death in the state today.

25, 590 of us are infected in NJ.

We need a better plan.

Stay well readers.