Day Two - April 2, 2020
Today I (again) awoke to a little white bundle of joy snuggled up to my legs snoring loudly.
The sun rose again this morning, despite a global pandemic. Blue skies graced the sky as Andrei and I trudged through the tall grass and woods on our daily morning trek.
WAIT! Is this today? Or yesterday? I think my life might be looping back on itself…
So my choices for clothing this morning were narrowed down to either black yoga pants or black leggings. The leggings won out for the 14th consecutive day in a row - thus making this Costco purchase months ago the real winner of the season! Who knew ? These days seem to evoke a strong need for comfortability and practicality. I find no need to get decked out to sort laundry, grade papers, pay bills or work in the garden. I gave up on makeup weeks ago…
I forced myself to sit still in the office and work steadily through my lengthy to-do list… The kids needed all sorts of random techy things today for their classes and by mid-afternoon, I felt as though I had actually accomplished something… And then Nanny called.
Tomorrow she needs to join her Ladies Bible Study via Zoom. I don’t know about anyone else - but Zoom puzzles me. Sometimes I get it right, but more often than not, I have to get the kids to help me join a meeting. So… there we sat. Five miles apart… Nanny, her iPad, iPhone, and home phone -- and me.
And there we sat for at least three hours. iPad propped up on the table, iPhone facetiming the iPad, and her home phone in her ear -- and me. Leah, who adores my mom, was physically twitching in the kitchen listening to the painful conversation. She acknowledged that as of today, she crossed “customer service” off her job possibilities. After a painful few hours, we had to bring in Daniel, who has the patience of Job. Another two hours passed - and he quietly suggested we gear up in our hazmat suits and drive to Nannys to fix the issue. So there he patiently sat outside her house, suited up with gloves and a mask, while Nanny beamed at him behind the closed window as the wind gusted across the yard.
After another solid hour and freezing to death - he managed to fix the issues with all the devices, sanitized the equipment, left it on her chair in the garage and hopped back into the van… exhausted. Not frazzled but just spent.
As we drove home, he never complained but smiled a little when Nanny texted to profusely thank him for helping her “get together” with her girlfriends tomorrow morning. This is hard… Technology is beautiful but it is hard.
Last night I had a virtual birthday party with a few of my friends and family via Zoom. We spent the first part of the evening - just desperately trying to make sense of the platform. Eventually, things settled down and we figured out how to communicate and enjoy being with one another. After an hour, we said our good-byes and disconnected…
As I turned from the computer screen - to go get ready for bed - I felt a slow sinking feeling begin in my heart. I begged for it to stop - but it just kept growing heavier until I finally had to acknowledge its presence. Grief.
It didn’t matter how much I tried to get myself to practice gratitude, focus on the positive, or try to hold myself upright - it didn’t work. It was as though I had tipped over like an hour-glass and couldn’t get myself to stand back up. Grief had come.
And so the painful practice began of disciplining myself to do my best to grieve well... Acknowledging yet again the losses this global pandemic serves to us on a moment by moment basis. Acknowledging my own frailty and humanity. Acknowledging that life is not the same. It is not peppered and spiced with the same exact beauty and fullness I once cherished…. An overflowing fullness I often took for granted.
I am not blind to the beauty that still lies all about me. It is dotted everywhere I look. But sometimes it is necessary to acknowledge the losses and grieve well so as to lay a fresh new foundation on which to build. Grief is not a respecter of persons. It cares not of net worth, religion, race or age. It comes even when we think we’re prepared but often when least expect it.
It cannot be rushed or hurried, ignored or suppressed. It finds its path to the most vulnerable places and settles down to rest.
And in this we grow. We change. We find opportunities to root out the old ways to make way for the new. Lamentations 3 cries out to God to see the affliction… the hour-glass undoubtedly tipped on its side!
“Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope:
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed,
for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
I say to myself, “The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.”
The Lord is good to those whose hope is in him, to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.
It is good for a man to bear the yoke while he is young.
Let him sit alone in silence, for the Lord has laid it on him. Let him bury his face in the dust— there may yet be hope.
Let him offer his cheek to one who would strike him, and let him be filled with disgrace.
For no one is cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion,
so great is his unfailing love.”
So now it’s time to seek out the HOPE to help us recenter. Refocus. Stand back up and allow time to continue its miraculous and mysterious work of grace.
And for now, it’s black leggings and Zoom…
