19 April 2020: Daily
/Yesterday marked the start of our 6th week at home. It feels both longer and shorter than that, as if time has changed meaning in some way, has morphed from a way to order and navigate a day towards something infinitely more nebulous. I am sorry I didn’t write yesterday, but humor seemed MIA, and in light of all the terribleness, a day of somber stun seemed in order.
Yesterday in my state, hungry citizens waited for hours in lines outside MegaMarts, hoping to secure a bag of food or $30 food voucher for their families. I spent $22 to get four bags of fresh bread delivered to my doorstep, trying to support a struggling local bakery and broaden the offerings for my perennially hungry children. When I saw the videos of the food lines, I felt like such an asshole: to live in this country of such wealth and abundance, to live in a well-resourced county of a variably well-resourced state and not think of $22 as anything but helping someone nearby and feeding my children. Which is good and all, but shit. What so many would give for four fresh loaves of bread.
thank you, sharon
Yesterday, today, in many states, tons of people gathered in sardine fashion to angrily, vehemently oppose shelter-at-home orders and to sun themselves on beaches. Alex Jones attended one protest, he the deplorable liar successfully sued by Newtown shooting victim parents for spreading conspiratorial lies about the murder of their children and invalidating and profiting off their pain at every turn. Our “president” lies constantly about everything and urges states to “LIBERATE” themselves from stay-at-home orders all while refusing to provide enough tests for our country. His bimbo press secretary, naturally a blond culled from Fox, spouts his lies and pathetic “accomplishments” as victories. “We have tested 4 million Americans!”
Well, that’s about 1% which is a pitiful drop in the bucket and matters extremely little. Iceland has tested 12%.
Today welcomed more protests for “liberation,” more lies, more death, more frontline medical overwhelm. I became so rattled while reading the newspaper that I got dressed and went to work in the yard before accompanying Oliver to his first weeding job to provide guidance, intentionally leaving my phone at home. I stayed outside, working hard, without phone, for hours. We all did. I took my new chainsaw for a whirl, weeded, and tended, Jack mowed three lawns, Ol did four hours of weeding work at two different homes, and Tom mowed and parceled felled limbs.
Today is also the first anniversary of the day my friend’s son was killed in the Sri Lanka Easter bombing. We gathered via Zoom to sit with her, and despite the horror and loss, it was lovely to be present.
This is really hard, y’all, in unexpected and expected ways. I find myself invoking perspective and privilege a lot, trying to remind the boys how good they have it while not minimizing the ways their rugs have been pulled from under them. And if you, too, feel thankful, lucky and also like a hot mess, that is TOTALLY normal, valid, and OK. We have no leadership, the economy is in free fall for most, we all miss the family and friends we treasure, we don’t know when things will feel normal again or how, and not a few of our fellow citizens are acting like spoiled brats who got sent to the time-out corner but -stamping feet- don’t wanna go. Grow up, you self-indulgent twats. Do the right thing for the collective, for the United states you profess to love so dearly.
I do feel so much better after a day in nature, working, tending, seeing others from afar. But I know that nothing is certain and that mood and kilter are transitory.
Be kind, be generous, cry and rage when you need to, laugh when you can, make something pretty. I’ll get the laugh tracks going again asap, but for now let’s all take a minute to hold all the loss in our hearts and the light, honor it all, and release some good to the world beyond.
