The Coronacation Diaries, Episode 94

Musings

As I write my way through this pandemic, the responses have been incredibly supportive and incredibly fascinating. Some readers are right there with me. Some push back, telling me I expect too much or hope for too much. I think that they know that "expect too much and hope for too much" is my middle name. I will own that.

Photo by Yeshi Kangrang on Unsplash

I've already decided that 100 is a good, round number, like bottles of beer on the wall +1. So, the end is closing in on the Coronacation Diaries, and regular weekly or biweekly blogging will commence. I have other things to write, other writing opportunities that I need to explore. It's been a really good run, an incredible challenge, and I have learned so much about myself, about how I am processing all of this, about my friends and family, and about my take on our nation.

Finding a way to put each day into words, and finding something unique in each day gives meaning to the mundane. And the realization that others are using these words to also process this strange time has been empowering, frightening, awe-inspiring. The fact that you are reading this, by choice,  helps me to realize that I am not alone. We are all in this together.

Together, yet apart. Apart, yet together. This has been the common thread. We are all feeling the stress of this pandemic in unique yet similar ways. An oxymoron. A paradox.  Teachers are struggling with how to teach and connect. Parents are struggling with how to parent.. Partners are struggling with how to partner. Workers are struggling with how to work from home. The kids are bored and lonely and frustrated and loving it. Everyone is generally in limbo. We all feel fat. Even when we all are realizing that there are aspects of a slower life that we might want to hold on to, going forward, we all are still mourning our lives, what used to be, what we wished still was. None of us are sleeping well.

And I've also learned that, if I had to be stuck in a smallish cottage on a 35x100 lot for 3 months with 4 pets and 3 tween/teens and a partner, I would choose these people. And if I had to co-parent, I would choose my ex, who has been phenomenal throughout all of this. As I sit by the fire in the chimenea with a glass of wine, laptop open, bats flying overhead, dog awkwardly trying to climb on my lap, partner poking at the fire, traffic echoing in the distance, I really can't complain.

If you are reading this, if you have been reading all along, if you just stumbled into this space today, let me know in the comments, or on Facebook, or on Twitter. What are you observing in your life? What should I write about, in these last few diary entries? What have you learned about life, about yourself, about your family, and what really matters? What would you print on your pandemic t-shirt? What has all of this done to you and your people? And what can we take away from this whole experience, to act better, do better, love better, be better? What will we tell our kids or our grandkids about this time in our lives?

We are all in this together. Apart, but together. This I have learned. This gives me hope.