In the Time of Covid

Today I sang this song in my head  (to the tune of Neil Sedaka's "Happy Birthday, Sweet 16"): "If I should cry/ In great despair It's cause it's nice outside, and I can't go out there./ This is the worst beginning of spring I've ever seen!/ Happy Easter, Quarantine!" I do not enjoy the holiday of Easter. It bothers me that the miraculous resurrection of the Messiah has been reduced to candy filled eggs and matching Easter ensembles. Let's be real, most people who feign devastation about missing church this Easter Sunday were regularly and voluntarily missing church before the pandemic. Tangentially, I find the symbol of the cross to be tacky, because that was not the point. He suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane, bleeding from every pore for the sins of mankind. He allowed Himself to be crucified on Calvary. And He was resurrected ; the reunion of body and spirit never again to be divided. Which of these is the most important?...

. . .  The other day I wrote to my local radio station: “While I appreciate your fervent coverage of the Corona-virus, I feel that we’ve all become like new parents who used to have myriad interests, and now we only talk about our baby. Baby Covid.” I was quite pleased when my brief correspondence was chosen as “Letter of the Day” and Tom Tangney said, “that’s perfect.”  Baby Covid has indeed consumed my thoughts, conversations, and even my dreams. (Last night I dreamt I was getting married. I wore a plastic gown and a mask. None of my friends could attend because they were quarantined. Right before the ceremony I stole away to the Trader Joe’s directly across the hall from the venue, where I asked the employee if I could skip the social distancing line because “I’m getting married in 5 minutes and I just really need a snack.”) In the time of Covid, even the most chill humans become obsessive and the thought-stuck. This is familiar territory for me. In the   regu...

Of all the places I could go, Caldwell, ID usually tops my list. I grew up visiting my Grandparents in Caldwell. Mom moved here a few years ago to help Gramma, and the place became even more of a refuge for me. "WOW I could go to Switzerland for $749 round trip!" Or, for that same price you could go see Mom 7 times! "Or there’s always NYC . . . I miss my friends . . . " OR you could go to Mom’s and sit on the couch and eat snacks.  "Or maybe Lake Tahoe, I should visit my sister . . ."  GOLDEN. GIRLS. WITH. GRANDMA.  Lately I find myself thinking terrible things that I wouldn’t say out loud.  Everyone was so concerned about ‘aging America’ and Baby Boomers bankrupting social security, but I guess Covid kind of solves that problem. ... Maybe all the people who don’t believe in science will keep going out, contract the virus, and die.   ... Really, this is expected. It is Darwinian . . . Survival of the fittest in a world where “th...

"You have an unquiet mind." Fr says it in the same tone that he would say "you have hazel eyes", like it's a trait I must already know, and he's simply observing it. I’ve only lived in my mind, and I find it to be quite regular. Aldous Huxley said, "The essential substance of every thought and feeling remains incommunicable, locked up in the impenetrable strong-room of the individual soul and body.” In my experience, thoughts cannot be compartmentalized. Of course I'd heard people say, “leave your work at work” or “don’t bring your personal problems to the office,” and I suppose I thought I was able to do that, but then hindsight and current experience tell me that I have never had any idea how to do that. For example, after seeing Les Mis on Broadway in 7th grade, I could not leave that feeling in the theater and I was depressed for two weeks. I cried in church, at school, in bed, in the shower. The same thing happened the first time my hea...

Fr calls this The Soft Apocalypse. He stands in the kitchen where he just finished making Thai chicken for dinner and I am currently baking scones. Last night we ordered Ethiopian food from a restaurant in Columbia City.  He feigns distress, “Ugh. I’m mildly inconvenienced.”  My brother Seth (who by the way did not have Covid-19, just the regular pneumonia) wrote in our family text thread, "We're soft, and ill prepared, and have become used to luxurious comforts that even the most broke of us enjoy.” It’s true, we are weak. A month ago my only goal in life was to go home, and now I’ve been ORDERED BY THE GOVERNMENT TO STAY HOME as much as I can, and I’m upset because I can’t go to the Mexican restaurant. The last time I was in a grocery store I saw a child eating a bag of Cheetos saying, “I have to sit down. MOM! I HAVE to sit down.” His mother was hurriedly trying to find somewhere for her mildly uncomfortable child to sit with his Cheetos. We are a people who HAVE...

The only thing I have today is Happy birthday, Lindsey.  Lindsey is my best friend. She loved cats. She was a teacher. She spoke german. She liked coffee and fruit and cheese. She didn't have to blow dry her hair for it to be perfect and shiny. She was warm and joyful and one of the few people I loved to hug. She was kind to everyone she met. She made friends wherever she went. She made everyone feel important. I would have enjoyed being quarantined with her. We would have read books next to each other and then talked about them. We would have made and consumed eggless cookie dough, gone on walks, and planted a garden on the balcony. We would've bedazzled some face masks or sewn our own. She would've insisted we help any elderly neighbors. She would cook amazing things, and I would eat them. There would be dancing and impromptu audience-less karaoke. We'd go to bed at a reasonable hour because we are old now. There would be a cat involved. I wonder if she ...