Today C and I watched the season finale of Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. The end of it felt cathartic--as soon as I registered that he was about to blow up the giant 2020 behind him, my fist went into the air. And then, curious, I went back and watched the March 15th episode, the first after things really started to pick up speed with the pandemic. From March til now feels like a terrible run-on sentence. So much of it defies linear understanding...so much has happened. It was interesting, and a little creepy, to go back and view it from November's perspective. I can recall the surreal feeling of leaving work on the 13th, not knowing when we would return. The giddiness at the prospect of working from home more than once a week. All of the conversations with others that trailed off at the end because no one knew what was about to happen.
Numbers are worse than they've ever been. Many of us are not going to see family for the upcoming holiday(s). I know a lot of people aren't willing to make that sacrifice, so I'm prepared to see the numbers rise again 3 weeks from now. This is the all time shittiest rollercoaster and I'm ready to get off. I miss my family. I miss not feeling afraid and panicked around other people. I miss not having this impending sense of doom, this constant anxiety and frustration. Refusing to wear a mask is NOT a political stance. But, it appears to be one now.
C and I talked a bit after watching Last Week Tonight. We talked about how this time has changed us. And it has. Of course it has--long gone are our days of sitting at the Honey Dip counter striking up small talk with strangers. No shows to go to, no outlets for him, no mics for me to stand behind. We have both been responsible and careful, and we are very grateful for that. It's the least we can do. It also comes with sacrifice and discomfort. In the midst of the pandemic, him and I have had to navigate through not one but two cancer scares, plus a move. We have sludged through this time with as much grace as we can muster--which, at some points, meant no grace at all. Sometimes we were crawling.
What's helped us get through? Leaning into each other, hard, when its needed. Communicating on the regular, even if words are hard to summon. We laugh when we can, and we love the people in our lives with our entire beings. Living within walking distance of Rita's kept us together during the summer. I've been consistently studying French, and writing, and C writes reviews and we take turns cooking. We donate money and help when and where we can, because despite all the wreckage we are still privileged. The minor things become major. Every bit of sweetness counts.
Numbers are worse than they've ever been. Many of us are not going to see family for the upcoming holiday(s). I know a lot of people aren't willing to make that sacrifice, so I'm prepared to see the numbers rise again 3 weeks from now. This is the all time shittiest rollercoaster and I'm ready to get off. I miss my family. I miss not feeling afraid and panicked around other people. I miss not having this impending sense of doom, this constant anxiety and frustration. Refusing to wear a mask is NOT a political stance. But, it appears to be one now.
C and I talked a bit after watching Last Week Tonight. We talked about how this time has changed us. And it has. Of course it has--long gone are our days of sitting at the Honey Dip counter striking up small talk with strangers. No shows to go to, no outlets for him, no mics for me to stand behind. We have both been responsible and careful, and we are very grateful for that. It's the least we can do. It also comes with sacrifice and discomfort. In the midst of the pandemic, him and I have had to navigate through not one but two cancer scares, plus a move. We have sludged through this time with as much grace as we can muster--which, at some points, meant no grace at all. Sometimes we were crawling.
What's helped us get through? Leaning into each other, hard, when its needed. Communicating on the regular, even if words are hard to summon. We laugh when we can, and we love the people in our lives with our entire beings. Living within walking distance of Rita's kept us together during the summer. I've been consistently studying French, and writing, and C writes reviews and we take turns cooking. We donate money and help when and where we can, because despite all the wreckage we are still privileged. The minor things become major. Every bit of sweetness counts.
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