Day 11- Why am I still counting?
March 27, 2020
We are okay. We are healthy, Katy is upstairs coloring her hair, Sheldon is working, the dog reluctantly joins me for walks, Quincy College is going to let staff work from home next week, we have plenty of peanut butter and I am lucky to be alive but damn.
It’s really hard some days.
We meditated. Walked in the woods. Spoke to family and friends. Read. Talked to friends from work and reached out to some students I know from town.
It’s a beautiful day.
I’m sad and there is a glorious sunset outside.
I never thought I’d be nostalgic for a month ago but tonight, I miss picking out my clothes, packing my lunch, and negotiating with Katy over how she would get to school.
I miss needing coffee in the morning, parking where I probably shouldn’t, picking up the phone on my desk and knowing an answer.
I miss knowing an answer the most.
With love from a blue corner of the world this evening,
Julie
Katy and I meditate every morning. We’ve tried ocean breath, slow yoga, a guided visualization that let me found my own happy place, which was on the Cape with a cocktail in front of pool watching my daughter play in the water.
I’d really like to be on that lounge chair, holding a Pina Colada, wondering if I applied enough sun screen, watching Katy and Madeleine. In no time, I’d jump into the cold water, and twirl them around under the surface while they laughed.
Summer will be here at some point, I think.
It’s been incredibly gloomy, the weather in New England is far too appropriate for the current state of the world.
I don’t know what summer will look like, and I try not to think about it by gobbling up new stories and the Facebook feed, exercising to videos online, or tucking my ears between headphones, and TURNING UP THE VOLUME
to a ridiculous level so that there is no room to think about
what’s going to happen next.
At the end of the day, we find our way to the television. We make popcorn in the microwave and add butter and maple syrup. We watch Mrs. Maisel, and marvel at the beautiful clothes, sparkling actors, and shiny view of New York City in the 1950’s. We appreciate watching beautiful people kiss, hold hands, go to the store, share drinks, squeeze together in a cab.
Katy, my sixteen year old, has started calling me mamma, especially if she wants an impossible burger, or hair dye. Especially right before she goes upstairs to bed. She leans in and hugs me each night, presents me her cheek.
There are blessings in all of this,(I know, and I’ve counted the blessings, but I do need to remind myself of this,) and terror, and sleep is hard to come by.
I’ve got the days figured out, mostly.
Nights are long. We’ve taken to leaving the light on, and leaving the phones in another room.
Sleep well, my friends.
Julie
Springtime and Resolutions- Day 9 (I think)
March 24, 2020
Last night, no sleep.
Today, I woke up around 10 am. I am sleepwalking thru everything.
is there a possibility that in future days I will look back on this as respite? As a moment with family, to indulge in watching tv and books and begin conversations I’ve been putting off for a million years?
At so many points, I’ve thought-
Once I get thru the baby years, I’ll be good.
Once Colin stops going to the woods, life will be perfect.
Once I lose 20 pounds, get a promotion, go on vacation, finish my degree, things will fall into place.
It’s hard to live in a world that is entirely defined by this virus.
Yet, my world is not defined by Covid 19.
Katy is coming downstairs to dance in our living room.
The birds are noisy, the air is warm. It is spring.
My house is clean, my refrigerator is organized. I actually gave a presentation to Sheldon and Katy about where to put the cheese, the hot sauce, the vegetables; and the importance of proper placement. (I can’t believe they actually listened, and pretended they would always remember to put the salad dressing in the door. Not a chance.)
I don’t really think it’s important that the cheese goes in the bottom shelf, my floors are shiny, and my blender looks brand new.
It’s important that this isn’t another time in my life that I spend waiting for it to be over.
It’s going to be while, and time is precious.
I need to know this in my head and in my heart.
I’m working on it.
Love,
Julie
Day Eight- It Snowed and Life Went On
March 24, 2020
Day Seven- Just Before Dog Walk Number 5
March 23, 2020
Going forward, it’s a given that every day we meditate in the morning, or are interrupted meditating in the morning, I eat more than I should, I walk the dog.
I read, we watch tv, we visit the ocean, I venture into stores for necessities like art supplies, or tonic water.
Katy and I laugh a lot, about her choice of teeshirts, the way I can’t ever find the cinnamon, and the look she gives me when I suggest she feed the cats- a little bit of hysteria creeps in sometimes. We’ve also taken to dancing around the kitchen to Shakira, Chicago, The Romantics, whatever is playing on the radio, again. This irritates or arouses Sophie, depending on whether or not she’s had breakfast.
I talk to Colin every day. Every day, he tells me he is in the middle of something and rushes to get off the phone. Maybe he’s working with his buddies on building a pyramid, he’s writing an opus, or training for the Olympics.
We gave his basketball hoop to a neighbor for her little boy. When she stopped by to pick it up she told me that Collie used to play ball with her son at the bus stop a million years ago. I loved her a little then.
Katy and I watched the ensemble comedy, “He’s Not That Into You,”. Movies feel weird since our reality feels more dramatic than Gennifer Godwin figuring out that if a guy doesn’t call, it’s not a good sign.
I’m heading out for dog walk number five. It is almost 10, cold, windy, and I just want to let my headphones swallow up my ears, and keep them warm. I want to run a little, I’m not a runner, so it’ll be more a sad jog, but I feel the need to do something a little different tonight.
Stay amazing. Be kind, to others, and to yourself.
Peace.
Julie
March 22, 2020
Day Six, On The Way to Drastic Steps
March 22, 2020
Mediation this morning was cut short. We didn’t make it the living room until 1130 and by the time we negotiated on the instructor, (it was Katy’s turn, according to Katy. It’s always Katy’s turn.) and sprawled, eyes closed, palms up, animals watching, it was almost noon.
Within seconds after the teacher’s voice started to flow, Sheldon started a home repair project that involved ripping up carpeting on the basement stairs. He wasn’t that noisy. There were not drills involved, and the door was closed. But I found it impossible to lay in the middle of the living room floor, listening to my breath, while my husband was dealt with the reek of cat urine that has lingered for weeks. Katy agreed to try it again later, and given that is after 8 pm, we’ll have to get back on that horse tomorrow.
We had planned to meet friends at Worlds End again today. The place matches the name, and given the current situation, I’m drawn there. I think Katy was happy to return because she likes the veggie burgers at Wahlbergers. But we didn’t get there either.
Around 1 pm, after a 10 minute attempt at Zumba in the living room, we decided we needed some downtime. From all the downtime, I guess. Katy made brownies. We turned on Criminal Minds, a show about FBI profilers that my daughter is partial to, and explains her recently expressed desire to study psychology. We ate brownies, watched tv, and catnapped for three hours. (I had not previously experienced this intense level of Netflix and chill.)
Afterwards, I did not feel chill. I’d missed calls from my friends. My leg was cramped, belly bloated with brownies, and brain disoriented by dozing thru stories of serial sex offenders and/or killers and the people that capture them. I almost let her talk me into one more about the cult and the Apache burial ground because my foot was asleep, but somehow, my inner mom rose to the occasion. I snagged the remote, stole Kate’s blanket, and sent her upstairs for warm clothes.
By 5, we were at Wollaston Beach. We walked far, and we talked about her boyfriend, if school would be back this year, why she’s a vegetarian and if she’d consider giving it up for quarantine, (no,) and why I always feel the need to talk while we’re walking. I would like someone to explain how I ended up with a Mona Lisa daughter, and why this mysterious one still likes me?
She might not. She’s mysterious, and she’s pragmatic. She recognizes I hold the car keys and the cash. And for right now, I’m the only friend she can see live and way too in person.
I asked her to think what I can do to help her thru this, and I’m going to try to make space for her to respond.
This quarantine allows me the opportunity to know my sixteen year old daughter, my Mona Lisa flutist with the messy room, passion for olive green teeshirts and hot pink nail polish. She is a girl of mystery that might not be mysterious at all. We both just might have been busy.
Tomorrow, I am going to clean the basement and read a book. I’m going to walk with my daughter, and make sure we meditate before Sheldon decides it’s time to empty out the kitchen cupboards. I am going to delete Facebook from my phone.
It’s time to take drastic steps. Here’s hoping our government steps up and does the same.
Peace.
It’s Only Day Four?
March 21, 2020
Day Four
It’s only day four?
Almost forgot the 930 morning meditation, but remembered sometime after 10.
Meditation is easier for me laying down, it’s hard for me to listen to my breath while I’m worrying about my posture. I peeked at Katy a few times, she seems to have this meditation thing down. I’ll start calling her Buddha if she ever comes out of her room.
Then breakfast, and laundry. Lunch, and dishes.
I’ve been paying attention as the day goes on, in case I do something worthy, but, well, I flossed for an extra long time? I went online and fell in love with Conan O’Brian all over again? Is this worthy?
Long walk around Ponkapoag with Sophie in the rain. No need for any distancing, the world stayed home while we strolled in the mud. On the way back, stopped by the liquor store and picked up a large bottle of Screwball peanut butter whiskey.
I avoided getting groceries because I spent all my cash on alcohol but long to go to Shaw’s for a box of pasta the way I used to crave a night out.
I discovered half way into day one that ice cream isn’t a good idea. Someday I may want to wear pants agin, and button them.
I’ve heard 18 months and mid May, and sometime this summer, and next week, in terms of a return to normal, but a friend said, there will be no returning to normal, or not the old normal. This friend also said extraordinary times call for extraordinary actions.
I can not say I did anything extraordinary today. I didn’t buy ice cream. I did buy whiskey, but I don’t plan to drink it any time soon. I walked the dog, but that was more a favor to me than to her. I made Katy breakfast and lunch, but I’m pretty sure she’s in charge of dinner, and it’s popcorn.
I tried to convince my mom not to play bridge, but she went anyway, and I think I will let her figure out her social calendar without my input. I use any excuse to call her on the phone.
I’ve let go of normal, and will cling to gratitude for now-this moment, this breath, this night.
That is easy for me to say from this chair at this time, across from an unopened bottle of whisky, Sophie snoring in the next room.
I haven’t faced the laundry table since noon.
Day Three.
More meditation.
More walks.
More me trying to figure out the right way to engage my daughter in a conversation that lasts more than two minutes long. She doesn’t want to discuss what’s for dinner, if pushed, she tells me “I’ll have pasta.” She doesn’t want to tell me how her friends are doing, because she says it’s obvious.
She will however, eat with me, walk with me, and sit on the floor with me and listen to someone on my laptop talk to us about the breath.
More me getting mad at laundry, and
trying to figure out of there is truth
to the liquor stores closing,
to things being bad for 16 months,
to how deal with missing work so much, I started talking to the guy at Dunkin’ Donuts about submitting his FAFSA.
More missing Colin and thanking all the powers that be when he picks up the phone,
thanking the lord he’s not living at home,
and wishing it was four years ago,
While he was.
Me wishing it was a month ago, and I was out somewhere somewhere after work, with music.
Me and my friends sitting there over cocktails, believing
the worst that could happen
Had already happened.
Katy, me, and a friend went to Castle Island.
Sully’s was closed, but I tried the most amazing coffee on the way home from the beach.
And dinner was good, and Katy is on her way down to wish me good night.
I guess Day Three had some charm, as days sometimes do.
Wishing all of you a wonderful night, or at least,
A little bit of sleep and a really good dream.
Day Two I walk the dog and make some cookies
March 21, 2020
Day 2
Breakfast
Morning meditation w Kate. Sophie decided to sleep thru it.
Katy did homework.
Lunch.
Homework.
I scrolled Facebook and rearranged the furniture so I’d have room to exercise. I tried hip hop cardio, a little dance fit, and a tiny tabata.
I scrolled on Facebook more, read a book, wiped surfaces, washed my hands, woke the dog.
Made oatmeal peanut butter snacks, read the paper, read a book.
Went on two hikes, picked up prescriptions at cvs, cauliflower at stop and shop, made dinner, made cookies, made calls, cleaned the kitchen, again, read a very long poem recommended by a friend, and
now, I’m sprawled on the sofa.
I’m not going to make coffee for the morning.
It snowed this morning.
We meditated together in the living room. The pellet stove was on; it was cold. Mostly, Katy and I were quiet this morning.
When it was over, she read out loud the poem recommended by Steve Dooner, and I fell in love with her voice and her delivery of the words, even those she mispronounced, but had no idea what the poem about, except it was sad and beautiful.
When Katy went upstairs tonight, we agreed that for a time, she will only walk outside with me and Sophie.
Michael the cat may follow, but he’s getting tired and stays close to the stove, mostly.
She can use her phone a little later to FaceTime her friends.
Katy is sad and beautiful, tonight, day 2 done.
Afternoon of Day One Corona Virus Milton Massachusetts
March 21, 2020
Afternoon of Day One-
A sock project created havoc in our schedule, but I can say with confidence, our socks all match.
Swaddled in layers, with a lunch bag of hand sanitizer, lysterine, and wipes, we went back over the beach and then the Marina.
Tonight, there are vegetables roasting in the oven, for vegetarian enchiladas. I’m washing my walls, and waiting to call my mom for the third time. I’m hoping Colin will call, and really hoping he’ll talk to me about more than whether or not I’ll wash his sneakers. I will wash his sneakers, but I like to keep him guessing.
I want to turn this time for reflection into something more than the opportunity to try out new mindfulness apps, more than frantic walks down the beach, dragging Sophie, who has had enough walks for the next six weeks, and field trips to the grocery store for honey and chicken.
I want to find a way to slow down, to settle in to our space and the state of things. It is time to be still.
Still is hard for me.
I think still is hard for all of us.
That is why I will start the day again tomorrow with a meditation.
I will put my phone away by 8 pm.
I will take Sophie around the block, and hike up a mountain.
I will recognize these are guidelines, and that things change.
I will recognize that when one is told by the universe to slow the #$$%^^ down, one gently applies the brakes.
There’s time to practice.
julierichmond 