The U.S. topped 100,000 cases of the virus today. For once, I had avoided the news while sitting on my sofa at work, but that didn't matter after all, because it still happened anyway.
About 3 p.m. my composure kind of exploded with the need to move. Lola and I took a walk. My broken foot walked and walked until somewhere around two miles the limp got so bad I wasn't so much walking as gimping along pathetically, so I came back home.
100,000 cases in the U.S.
Why does it seem as if it's happening somewhere else? In spite of feeling isolated and alone, and frightened that I can't see my family, the virus itself feels very remote. Like it can't happen here; not here.
Yet it is. It is happening everywhere. To say I'm scared is an understatement, yet it's not just the virus that scares me. It's the economy, too. People being laid off in such numbers that the idea of recovery is too daunting even to think about.
This is so tiring. I cook, and tidy, and do laundry and work and work and work. The yard wants work, but it rains on the weekends when I have the time and the sun shines when work requires my attention.
I pray for this to be over, but it's going to take more than the blink of an eye, or an announcement on the news, or prayers. Prayers can make you feel there is hope, perhaps, but prayers are not going to fix this ugly. This is a deep, stagnant hole and it's going to take awhile. Buckle up, it's still gonna be a bumpy ride.
My son is safe, my grandchildren are safe, my brothers are safe. They are all I have. For now, everyone I love is safe. That remains so and yet will there ever be the worry in the pit of my stomach and a fluttering everpresent ache in my heart.
Let everything happen to you
beauty and terror
just keep going
No feeling is final
- Rilke
No comments:
Post a Comment