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…

A blog post series about the COVID-19 Pandemic. Day One – March 17th 2020 Last night, my 75 year old mother read me a bedtime story for the first time in several decades. Okay, she wasn’t reading it to me, she was reading it to my seven-year-old son via FaceTime, but it was still pretty damn sweet. She and my dad, who is also in his seventies, have decided to self-isolate at home. We’ve been asked to stay away. I have no problem with this because my dad fits the profile for the people who are hardest hit by the…