I’ve been on the edge of sliding into a pretty decent depression for a little while now, so I’d been avoiding calling my parents, because when I’m in this place and they ask me how I’m doing, I always start crying. (This discounts the call I made when my sister asked me to play “good cop, bad cop” with her because one of them had been going to the store instead of staying home like they said they would. So I called and lectured, then she called them to follow up, and then she sent me a text to tell me that they requested she be the bad cop next time.) 🙄 Anyway, I called today because I didn’t feel on the edge of tears, and I miss them.
When I’m not traveling for work I usually visit around once a month. They live a few hours away and I go to stay the weekend. The last time I saw them was in January. I was supposed to visit at the end of February but I was having a bad run with migraines so I stayed home. I wish I had gone. Who knows how long it will be until I see them again. So now I’ll start calling more, if I don’t think I’ll end up crying. Of course I can always call them and cry. That’s how most of our phone calls went when I was in my 20’s. But when I call I want to talk to them, hear how they’re doing, the antics of the kittens and how the neighbors garden is starting to bloom. Maybe I’ll dig out my boxes of stationery and start sending cards.
I should send a card to my Grandmom too. She’s 93 and lives in Maryland with my aunt and uncle. They take such good care of her but I worry because of her age, the diabetes, and congestive heart failure. This pandemic could take her along with so many others. Cards and phone calls. It’s not enough but it’s what we have.
When I look at the exponential spread of COVID-19 and then think about the deaths that will result it makes my heart miss a beat. We’re all going to at least know someone who loses a loved one to this, if not lose someone ourselves. I’ve been steeling myself for weeks when it comes to getting ill. I know it’s when I catch COVID-19, not if. But in the last day or two my mind has taken that next step. When I lose someone to this, not if.
And the best I can do for those I love and the rest of my community is to stay home. So here I am, blogging at the end of a long work day in bed with my dog and one of the cats. There’s a level of helplessness in knowing that the best you can do is to stay put. There’s a surrender to it, too. We do the best we can and hope the White House administration doesn’t make everything worse than they already have.
Anyway. This isn’t a very uplifting post. I think the struggle I’ve had this week was my mind wrapping itself around this though. There’s that at least. Maybe I’ll sleep a little better tonight. I hope you do.