This is exactly how a Sunday morning should feel; I’m sitting in bed in the warm glow of the bedside lamp, and the rain is pattering outside. The screen of my laptop is reflecting the Gingko tree in the backyard, and she feels like she’s watching over me. My little cat Luna is curled up on the bed, licking raindrops off her coat, and I’m here, talking to you as we approach our first pandemic fall. I tried again. And again. The space between him and I grew wider and wider. Not for him, somehow, which I don’t think I’ll…
You may be inclined to think this is a cry for help. It’s not. I wrote it so you know you’re not alone in this madness. How’s your pandemic going? Mine’s a disaster. In the good old days (February), I was living in a one-bedroom apartment with two cats, my partner, and my seven-year-old son. It was beyond small, but we made it work, and mostly it felt cozy. We were dealing with what I thought was normal relationship stress. Things like learning how to communicate effectively, moving through conflict with empathy, and prioritizing the relationship amidst our busy lives.…
It’s been just over a week since I asked him to leave. At the new moon last Tuesday, I committed to transparency. To look at the last year, our year, and identify patterns. To search for the lessons in old journal entries, poems, blog posts and to uncover the truth that I must realize in order to move forward. I have lived so much of my life in fear, and that fear has informed so many of my reactions. Now, we are collectively gripped by fear, fanned daily by the media and the ever-changing reality we find ourselves in. I…
I woke up sandwiched between my seven-year-old and the cold wall of his bedroom. We’d slept cramped in his twin bed the night before. He couldn’t get close enough. He hasn’t been able to get close enough to me since we’ve found our way into this pandemic. At first I thought he was missing his grandparents and aunts and uncles. Only last night, when he refused to roll over onto the adjacent twin mattress, did I realize why he hadn’t been able to get as close as he wants to his mama; I’d been barricaded. Later that morning a friend…
We’ve been living in the COVID-19 pandemic for four weeks now. It’s our first full moon, and the pink supermoon at that. The overcast skies may prevent me from seeing the moon in all her glory, but I’ll light a candle and whisper prayers nonetheless. Prayers for a new world. Nothing about the moment-to-moment details of our life is the same, and yet this feels so familiar. How have I been able to find contentment when there is death and fear and disease in every news report? Why am I so comfortable despite not knowing where my next paycheque is…
