Pandemic Snapshots

— After three months in almost total isolation – and since I live alone, isolation is ISOLATED – I ventured out to my friend David’s and Maria’s this weekend for a socially-distant cookout. With two other great friends, Sheila and Mike. It was the first time in three months I drove over 40 miles an hour. I was only going 60, but it felt like I was at Nascar. Also mostly empty highway, which would be unheard of in normal times, particularly a gorgeous spring weekend. We sat out in David and Maria’s backyard, at appropriate distances apart, and David manned the grill, and we sat under the gathering twilight, and talked with the same fervor shown by a thirsty person grasping for a glass of water. We couldn’t STOP. It was just so GOOD to be together in the flesh. We told stories, we discussed the state of the world, we laughed, we ate barbecue, and we also had a wonderful time watching the two robins bringing worms to their four baby-robins waiting in a nest buried in a bush right by the house. The pandemic brings all kinds of other things to the forefront, which may be missed otherwise in the welter of everyday-life schedules. David lost his job, and so he has been at home, obsessing on the development of these baby robins, from when they were eggs to now. We’d glance up and see, perched on the roof of the house, one of the adult robins, wiggling worm in its mouth. It was fascinating. I peeked in at the nest, and the babies all lay there, mouths open and raised. Waiting. Stay strong, babies!

— My schedule now takes me from one Zoom call to another. This week I have a Zoom cocktail hour. Two days ago I attended a Zoom birthday party. There are family Zooms. Work Zooms. Individual Zooms. Group Zooms. The novelty has, how shall I say it, WORN OFF.

— I have gone to a couple of protests in my area, the biggest one a gathering at the City Hall in Jersey City, with a host of speakers and community leaders. I’ve been to numerous protests there over the years I’ve lived here, protesting this or that sinister “executive order”. The mailing lists are extremely organized and on point. I’m proud of living here, it’s such an active and organized citizenry – in the truest sense of the word “citizen.” People are doing their best to still social distance, and everyone wears a mask.

— I’ve been far from the action in New York – haven’t stepped foot in the city since the second week in March – and considering the pandemic, and how we had zero leadership and were fed lies and denials as though we lived in Belarus, for God’s sake – I should have already been quarantined, we all should have been. But that’s the way it went. I’ve known numerous people who’ve come down with this thing, although no one I personally know has died from it. My best friend Mitchell came down with it, and it was brutal. He was interviewed about his experience – and has since, as his wont, become a Go-To-Person for encouragement, reassurance, and information. My friend Ted and his husband came down with it, but they’ve come through to the other side of it. (Hence: our cocktail hour Zoom later this week).

— I miss my family so much it’s an actual physical ACHE. Just looking at my mother’s face over FaceTime, and wanting to hug her, is … it’s crushing. This too shall pass. And my nieces and nephews, going through all this, losing teeth, learning how to ride bikes, and I can’t be there with them.

— We’ve experienced the death of a beloved family member, my dear dear godmother, my mother’s sister. Not from Covid, but from the illness which made her final years such a torment. So it’s a relief that she is no longer suffering but her death was still devastating. Also to not be able to go to the graveside ceremony … it was just … it felt SO WRONG. My cousin Olivia went, bringing her phone, and Zoomed us all in (all the cousins, spread across the country). We couldn’t hear anything because of the wind, but it felt so important to be there, to send our beloved aunt off. I felt the love. I have felt the love in our family – we have been in contact all of us, and have done a number of group Zooms (there are so many cousins on both sides in my family – group Zooms are nuts), where we talk about her, reminisce, share stories. It’s amazing: because I have my stories – so many good stories – but I have been learning more about her from the stories my cousins and aunts and uncles have told. She was a wonderful person. If you want to get to know Geddy a little bit, here’s the beautiful obituary, which does her justice. The other thing is – people have been sharing their photos, and so many of these I have never seen! Here I am, blabbing at Geddy about something, gesturing, and clearly saying something very emphatically – and the way she is looking at me is how she looked at all of us, her nieces and nephews. With total focus, taking us in. She didn’t just love us, her nieces and nephews. She LIKED us. It’s a very different thing and even more meaningful.

She made us all feel important. She was such a funny and smart person. I was going to write something about her on here, and I will eventually, but had to share this now because it’s been heavy on my heart.

— Another strange disconnected thing: my nephew Cashel graduated college the last month. But of course … there was no ceremony, he’s been quarantined at his mom’s, separated from his friends who he was just about to graduate with, and it’s all been upsetting and almost unreal. I have so much sympathy for the kids right now, those graduating, or about to graduate, or not being able to do their summer internships, or not being able to go on college tours … it’s so hard. So his mom hosted a Zoom graduation party, and there were so many of us there, from all the different sections of his life, there had to be 40 people on this call, and we all made speeches and Mum mentioned Dad, and I was a wreck from that point forward. Cashel. Mum and Dad’s first grandson. And the only one Dad got to know. I can’t even write this without crying. I love my family. Being apart right now through all of this has been super hard. The sacrifice is worth it – I am tough, we are all tough – but it hurts my heart. I try to hold everyone in my heart. My grieving family. Friends who are struggling. People with health problems. People who have lost parents and couldn’t be there in their final moments because of Covid. Anyone hurting. The separation from other people exacerbates the feeling of yearning towards each others’ humanity. Trying to be gentle and caring and kind. Be PRESENT to the gifts we have. Enjoy our families even though we can’t hug them, even if we want to so bad.

— If you’re looking for a new series to binge-watch, I’ve got one: Delhi Crime on Netflix is superb. Based on the true story of the 2012 gang rape in Delhi which made international news and protests erupted across the country, protests against the state, against the police, against the system itself and the treatment of rape victims, not to mention the underlying misogyny. I’m sure you all remember it. It was a shitshow of global proportions, one of “those moments” in a country’s history with the power to change systemic deeply ingrained assumptions/prejudices/customs. Hm. It’s reminding me of something else right now but I can’t put my finger on it …

Anyway, Delhi Crime was not on my radar at all, even though I’ve been having fun digging into the various crimes series Netflix has picked up from around the world. I’ve watched one from Iceland, one from France, one from Finland – it’s really fun to watch something where I don’t know any of the actors, and get to “meet” a bunch of new talented people. My friend Sheila – who spends a lot of time in India for work – told me about it, and sang its praises. I’m two episodes in and I think it’s fantastic.

— Hope has adjusted fairly well to the quarantine, although I’m quite concerned about her stress levels. I mean, look at her.