CYNTHIA D. BERTELSEN

I wish I could write about every day as if it were a new and exciting adventure now.

But I’ll be honest.

It’s a bit of a struggle.

I’ll admit it.

Today I felt flattened.

And I told myself it’s OK to feel that way. And I sort of believed it.

I watched too much TV, wishing I could read a book instead, The minute I fired up my Kindle, I knew it was a lost cause. For some reason, for the first time in my life, I can’t stay focused.

I can’t read. Not much. Not for long. The one solace of my life. Gone.

And that’s also OK.

So I turned to food, which usually sustains me.

I cooked a steak, a splurge, essentially a gift from an intrepid young woman willing to grocery shop for people like me, we the most vulnerable to COVID-19 and death. So sobering, so terrifying. Yes, terrifying, despite the myriad jokes and cutesy posts crowding the bandwidth these days. I’ll be honest about that.

I worry about the people still out there on the front lines, trying to make things better for all of us staying at home.

 

Nurses.

Doctors. 

Mail deliverers.

Amazon warehouse folks.

Instacart shoppers.

Grocery store checkout clerks.

Cleaners of buildings and offices and places of business.

Medical office personnel.

And on and on.

 

It’s hard, to be in the moment, when our culture is one that stresses the future so much.

It’s hard. So hard, not to be able to hug that friend, to talk with your neighbor.

But in the end, as Julian of Norwich said, all will be well. I’m trying to believe that, mightily.

Stay the course. Soak up the small details of life. Hang on, hang on.

Be well. Stay safe. And stay home, if you can! Please.