“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” Maya Angelou
“Be kind to one another.” Ellen
It’s still early days. We are one week and two days since the initial stay home “suggestion” from the current administration.
I’ve been scared, and I’ve been relieved. I’ve been numb, and I’ve been agitated. I keep deep breathing, both for calmness and to see if I still can. I’m worried about my father who lives with me and my mother who lives alone four hours away by car. They are both 83 this year.
My last trip to the grocery store was calm, the people were calm, I was able to buy what I needed in that moment – and yet I began crying in the parking lot on the way to my car. I’ve since been able to order groceries and my lovely boyfriend has dropped off a few other things.
We have six rolls of toilet paper left – and 24 machine washable cloths if this toilet paper desert continues.
That’s probably enough in the statistics department.
I have so much trust in people. Even me, the eternal fatalist, has faith that we will make it through and probably pretty fast (especially in the grand scheme of humans being on the planet for only a short while anyway).
I’ve been asking, what can I contribute during this time? Mostly I feel like the answer is – not much. But that’s not the reality. The truth is I can contribute, I can use my words for those who enjoy reading to remind us all (because, of course I write to reassure myself) of a few things:
I am ok right this minute (I realize you might not be… see the next thing)
This too will change and there’s a good chance I’ll be better or still ok in the moment
Nothing stays the same
Our response to what’s happening is likely the only thing we have control over.
I’ll be the first to admit… I am not my best self when it comes to my demented father with whom I had been estranged before circumstances brought us to such close quarters three years ago. So when I am sharp to him after the same question the 100th day in a row, I breathe more deeply and find a way to be kind. The blessing of his dementia is that he likely won’t remember the sharpness in an hour.
Give yourself a break, breathe a little deeper if you can, know that however badly life might feel in this moment – there are joys to be witnessed, gratitudes to be felt, kindnesses we can bestow and receive Every. Single. Moment.
So much love and trust in you,