Day 24 When This is Done, and It Will Be Done-
April 9, 2020
I will remember the nervous eyes of shoppers at the grocery store, faces hidden behind surgical masks, walking with friends from a distance, and as the news got worse, walking alone, and writing about moments of grief, terror, and anger on Facebook and finding connection in the conversation that followed.
But what I will remember most is this-
every night, about twenty minutes in advance, I scream upstairs, where she hides for hours, behind I closed door because she says I am noisy, “KATY?”
We do a dance class online, and for some reason, it really matters to me that we do it “live”.
When the music has started, she is usually looking for her sneakers, or finding her yoga pants.
When she arrives, the first thing she does is close the curtains in the living room. I move back and give her the spot directly in front of the lap top. She uses my only pair of free weights, I use a jar of tomato sauce and a can of peaches.
For an hour, we dance. Actually, by the time she gets there, it’s more like fifty minutes.
One night, we had a disagreement, probably because she was late. When she arrived, I told her I wasn’t going to make her stay, she could go back upstairs to her FaceTime and homework.
Katy looked at me and said “Mom, I look forward to this.”
So do I.
Waking up is hard. Sleep is impossible.
But for a little less than an hour, almost every night for 28 days, my daughter and I have shared a tiny space in our living room and danced.
I hope you have a person, a song, or a memory to help you thru.
Love,
jules
Day 23 Losing my religion
April 9, 2020
I don’t want to dance, eat spinach, meditate, work, take a shower, take a walk, clean the cupboards, don a mask, take a vitamin, or kiss my kid.
I’ve done all that, and more.
Quite simply, there is nothing else to do.
Yesterday, our neighbor sat outside on a beach blanket. She turned her face up to the sun. She was smiling, and talking on her phone.
I don’t want to sit on a blanket.
I want to have a tantrum, a roll around on the bed and wail until I’m gulping air like water, temper tantrum.
I want to scream at the heavens.
I want to punch a wall, use nasty words, and snap at someone innocent.
This is where I’m at today, Day 23, at home.
I am finding comfort doing things I don’t want to do, remembering yesterday’s sunshine and the lady next door, and wondering if I remember the words to the Lords Prayer or any prayer at all.
Love,
Jules
Conversation and Future of Conversation on Day 22
April 9, 2020
Katy and I just discussed the importance of correctly loading the dishwasher and nesting the silverware.
Maybe tomorrow, Sheldon and I will debate the value of a linen closet, and the challenges of folding a contour sheet.
Day 21- Not Getting Any Better At This
April 7, 2020
The sun is out, 2nd day in a row.
My daughter is laughing upstairs at a video, already completed on workout with me, and has promised another.
Sheldon suggested we order takeout, so now I don’t have to chop vegetables, boil water for pasta, or do dishes. (I don’t think he’s a huge fan of my cooking, which actually works out pretty well sometimes.)
I’ve been for a walk, used a coupon, had plenty of work today, don’t need toilet paper, have given up on my hair, caught a really cool performance of one of the songs from Hamilton, completed morning meditation…
Did I mention the sun was out?
I’m feeling cranky, irritable, angry, and not happy.
To feel better, I’m going to-
Eat dinner. (I might just be hangry, this might have nothing to do with 20 days quarantine-pandemic-people are dying-who knows when this is going to end- issues).
Call my mom. It amazes me we still have something to say. We’ve been talking almost every day for twenty years, and we’re not terribly interesting people. She is, actually. When she’s not trying to get me to watch Big Brother.
Do Zumba with Katy- this is an issue. If I dance before I eat, I might faint. If I try after, I won’t want to, and then I will be cranky and bloated. Maybe I’ll eat an apple now.
Have a long conversation with Sophie about how she is the very, very, very best dog in the whole wide world. Hope that she somehow communicates I am the very best human, because that would be helpful right now.
Remind myself- Even though I am privileged and able to isolate with family at home, inside our home, and have a job, it is fine to be pissed off sometimes.
I apologize for the language. But I’m having a day.
Thank the Lord for the nighttime.
I need to play that song at full volume- “Thank The Lord For The Nighttime,” by Neil Diamond. He always makes me feel better, except for “Love on the Rocks”. I’m also not a fan of “I Am, I Said” and have never considered speaking to a chair, no matter how cranky, irritable, angry, and not happy I was. Though I might try, if my spirits don’t improve.
Here’s hoping none of us end up speaking to the furniture anytime soon.
Julie
Day 20- We Go The Beach And It’s Somebody’s Birthday.
April 5, 2020
Day 20 Aka Sunday
There was steak for breakfast.
We all slept in.
We piled into the car, and drove to Scituate, a small town on the coast of southern Massachusetts.
We hiked thru a muddy marsh.
We visited the lighthouse and walked out on the jetty to the very end. I didn’t fall in between the cracks of the rocks, and Katy said my tiny frightened steps were adorable.
We laughed at Sophie while she rolled in the sand, and used a timer to send a picture to my mom in South Carolina.
About twenty minutes ago, when we pulled in the driveway, Katy cried- “I can’t believe I missed him!”
A friend of hers was coming to the house to drop off a slice of his birthday cake. They were going to smile at each other thru the window. She was allowed to come outside and wave after he had gotten back inside his parent’s car.
A Tupperware container was on the front stoop.
I’m looking at photos from today, and wishing it were weeks ago, and I knew what to cherish.
I’m wondering how to make her feel better, and I’m as lost as I have ever been.
Stay strong, my friends.
I’m waving at you from my window, and sending you love from my heart.
Day 19- The Day I Fight With My Daughter
April 5, 2020
The sun was out for the first time in days.
Katy has not been a fan of hiking with me since I dragged her and her brother wandering the Blue Hills behind the Trailside Museum when she was five and we got lost. I didn’t have snacks, and we probably ran out of water five minutes into our journey, which, I think, lasted about two hours. I’m surprised she speaks to me, or agrees to go anywhere near any kind of trail with me.
Today, I guilted her into coming. She was tired, and depressed. I was wide awake and depressed. By the time we left the house, (guilt tripping takes time,) the sun was hidden, it was windy, it was already 3:30 in the afternoon.
She didn’t want to drive. She put her head on the dashboard, and said she was tired. I said we could just skip the whole thing and go home. She managed to put her head further into the dashboard. (I don’t know how she did this, and, yes, I know this is incredibly dangerous. And I’m not the best driver.)
I was going to turn around, but spotted Sophie the Wonder Dog in the back seat. Sophie doesn’t like fighting and she really likes ponds.
We went to Houghtons Pond. Katy kept her head in her hands on the dashboard. When I pulled to a stop, she looked up.
“I thought we were going home.”
“I need to walk Sophie,” I growled.
“I want to go for a walk.” she answered.
“You don’t have to. You can wait in the car. Remember, you’re tired.”
“Well, then, if you don’t want me to go for a walk, I’ll go that way,” Katy marched off towards some rocks.
I dragged Sophie out of the backseat. She wanted to follow Katy. I wanted to follow Katy.
We walked in the opposite direction.
I took Sophie to the edge of the pond, and went back to the car. Katy was nowhere. I called her name.
I put Sophie back into the car and ran to the rock and yelled loudly- “Kattttyyyyy” and went back to the car scared as hell because my first go to every time we have an argument is to take the phone. I will rethink that in the future.
She came back to the car.
We didn’t speak on the way to Target.
There was no one at the store The people who were there were all wearing masks. Everyone stood miles apart.
For a little while, we were able to pretend it was a regular mother daughter shopping spree, the only thing that made it different was all we bought were pajamas and frozen vegetables.
We’re going to wear our new pajamas tonight, in front of the television, when we watch the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.
It’s another Saturday night.
Katy and I have made peace, probably because I’m leaving her alone for the moment.
I need to leave her alone, or let her stay home when she needs to.
She needs to come along with me, sometimes, without the promise of ice cream or nail polish.
This is too hard to do with my daughter’s head on the dashboard, or standing in the woods, screaming her name.
I think she agrees, because she’s upstairs cleaning her room. (At least, she said she was. I’m not going to check.)
Peace be with you.
Love,
Julie
Day 18- Also Known As Friday, April 3rd
April 4, 2020
Day 18 Also Known As Friday, April 3rd
Katy and I did yoga on mats this evening.
When the teacher called “child’s pose, Katy would say- “yessss”, under her breath, her response to plank the third time was “how much longer IS this?”
I was told I needed to face her during goddess, Kate didn’t want to look at my squatting backside a foot away from her front side. Sophie the Dog came over during shavasana and kissed in my foot. Even in the middle of yoga, in the middle of a pandemic, in the middle of the floor with my daughter, I am ticklish as hell.
After yoga, we had dinner. We’ve started eating salads more than I’ve ever eaten salads, to balance out the ice cream and the popcorn that’s become part of our weekly diet.
Also introduced recently are two workouts a day, also in response to the extra snacks and especially on days when there’s chocolate.
By two workouts, I mean dancing around my living room to pop music, and later dancing around my living room to hip hop music waiving three pound dumbbells in the air.
In other words, I’m not randomly doing side planks for minutes at a time with hip dips thrown in for giggles.
I’m searching for intelligent stories like a person on a first date or someone who just had their first shot at a party.
I think a lot of people are searching for intelligent stories, or even words. Given we are not able to do much, all many have to offer are memes and video clips from talk show hosts recording in their living rooms.
I don’t have any memes. I know the Katy yoga story isn’t that fascinating unless you are considering doing yoga with your teenage daughter. Go for it, just shower first, if your living room is small.
All I have tonight is a suggestion- if you don’t want to exercise, try moving a little. It doesn’t have to be running, or jumping jacks. It doesn’t need to involve burpees or barbells, burning calories or building biceps. It just needs to feel good.
You don’t need much time, any coordination, or shiny yoga pants with a really cute print, (I’m getting some when this is over if I can find them on sale.) My daughter closes the curtain when she hears I’ve turned on an exercise video.
It makes me laugh, and it embarrasses the hell out of Kate.
However, since she is, on occasion, is willing to join me, it’s probably a pretty good idea.
Kate is a very smart girl.
Day 17- This is really, really, really real.
April 2, 2020
I don’t wake up in the mornings and then remember that things have changed.
It’s been more than two weeks.
I don’t cringe, and roll over and wish it was 20 days before yesterday.
I don’t immediately grab my phone, and check the news.
I don’t want to cry or scream.
I want coffee.
I stretch, talk to Sophie, wiggle my toes, and wonder where my slippers are.
I go upstairs, and scoop the dark roast, pour the water. I heat up oat milk, add coconut sugar, and pour the first cup while it’s still dripping.
I take noisy sips at the kitchen table and open the computer. I log into my work email, and check to see if anyone wants to have a zoom meeting, so I know I much time I have to stay rumpled.
I drink coffee and think about breakfast.
The world is really weird, but it seems that, mostly, during the morning I am still the same woman I’ve been for a while now.
But there are spaces between work emails, fitness videos, meal prep, and dog walks, where the worry creeps in.
I worry about the people who don’t have a voice, or have voices but don’t have a platform, or people to speak to. I worry about all of the people that aren’t on Facebook, and don’t have smart phones or people to call.
How weird is it that I said platform before people?
I worry about the people without coffee, or homes, who are sleeping in parking spaces.
Then my husband comes home from work, and he’s worried about bills.
My daughter comes downstairs, and she’s worried about her boyfriend’s birthday.
I make my husband spaghetti. His shoulders relax.
I make Katy do Zumba with me in front of the computer in our living room. She laughs when I try to twerk.
Every night, I allow myself one and a half glasses of wine, so that I can sleep without wondering about the people who slip in my thoughts, between everything else.
Tomorrow, I’m going to stop worrying, and find a way to help people in my corner of the world, whose problems are bigger than pasta or dance fit.
(Thank God mine are, for tonight, anyway.)
I have time.
Day 15- I’m still counting but I’m not holding my breath.
March 31, 2020
Day 15- I’m still counting, but I’m not holding my breath.
Every night, it gets harder to write. I do the same things- read Facebook, scrub the counters, eat too much, drink a little, talk to my dog about every little thing, wish I was my dog, nag and laugh with my daughter.
It did occur to me, while Katy and I were jumping around the living room, doing a dance class taught by an old friend from the Y, that when life gets back to normal, I want to appreciate it a little more.
I want to cherish the hug from a friend, listen to every note of live music, spend more time with students, laugh with colleagues. take my pile a bit lower in barre class.
We can live our lives from home. Everything I mentioned above, except for the hug, can be done from my couch.
Even though, it is possible, and occasionally, comfortable to live life from my living room, (tonight it’s expected to snow, tomorrow, there is sleet on the way,) this is the hardest thing I have ever done.
I want to get to the other side of Covid 19 and for as long as I can, I hope to cherish being able to stand next to a friend, and walk Sophie without being scared of the person a few steps ahead.
It is a luxury and a tragedy, to live a wonderful life and never pause to consider it’s a wonderful life.
I’m still living a wonderful life. It’s just a little hard to find the wonder sometimes..
Love,
Julie
julierichmond 