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 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.
julierichmond 