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
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 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
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.
Corona Day Five Milton, Massachusetts
March 21, 2020
6:45 am Wake up
6:46 am Realize there is absolutely no point in waking up. Discuss the situation with Sophie, who advises the best response is to go back to sleep.
6:48 Nap
10:22 am Wake up, again. Struggle with guilt for sleeping so late. Struggle with knowledge that I might as well sleep late, the first thing on my schedule is morning meditation with Katy, and she is probably quite happy upstairs sleeping herself. She is quite good at sleeping in, I think, or maybe she just likes to avoid mom/daughter conversations about her feelings, and uses blankets and pillows as tools in avoidance.
10:40 am Morning meditation. This was not my favorite. It was all about healing, which of course made me think about the virus, which of course led to me spending my morning meditation laying in the middle of my living room floor trying to figure out where I might be able to find baby wipes and tonic water.
10:40 am Not a very good breakfast. Don’t try to put yesterday’s roasted sweet potatoes in today’s scrambled eggs. No amount of sriracha and Swiss will help the situation, sweet potatoes and eggs are not friends.
11 am Scrolled thru Facebook and Instagram. Trevor Noah seems depressed. I would like to cheer him up but I got nothing.
12 pm Nagged Katy about homework. Asked Katy if I could help.
12:15 pm Laundry. I put some away. Yay me.
1 until 3 pm Waited on Katy to go for a walk. Scrolled some more. Called friends. Went on Facebook to volunteer to walk dogs or run errands for anyone that needs help.
Stared at the phone waiting for the avalanche of people that need assistance with their dogs and their errands. So far everyone’s all set.
Will post again tomorrow. Katy is tired of me asking her if she has any questions about her homework, and I don’t want to rearrange the kitchen cupboards. Or deal with the closet.
Resolve to deal with the closet tomorrow.
Checked email. Would appreciate more spam. Deleted emails going back as far as 2016.
3:30 Met Alison at World’s End. We walked along the cliffs, watched the dogs roll in the grass, listened to Katy and Juiliana chat, talked to Kharson about his art and agreed that the world has a lot of assholes; it was like three years ago, and we needed that.
5 pm Dinner. We are trying to be mindful of the rationing thing- I don’t want to run out of food and be forced to eat the ramen noodles from 2017 that fell behind the refrigerator last week, the raisins Sheldon bought two years ago when he forgot that I do not ever eat cooked fruit, or the generic peanut butter that came with the house.
This has not been the best of days, but one thing I have learned is not to declare that it can’t get any worse. It can, and we are all learning together what worse looks like.
I am learning how much I rely on my family and friends.
I am learning how to get up in the morning, even when I’m not sure how to move forward, or where to go.
It’s coffee first, and things follow. Beautiful things will follow, I just need to take note.
Even for those of us who prefer tea, or don’t need a beverage first thing in the morning at all.
Day Four is almost done, though Katy has promised me an hour in front of the tv, and I think I’ll walk Sophie around the block. At the end of the day, it’s nice to take a moment to look at the beautiful moon.
julierichmond 