THE HARDEST PART

Almost every morning, after I get my coffee and find my seat in front of the 'staring window' of our living room -- the big window on the world and our busy bird feeders -- I sit in the silence of my home and feel my heart break.  Almost every morning the pain of that broken heart moves me to tears.

Love and grief are two sides of the same coin, they say.  You cannot grieve if you have not loved. And loving will inevitably lead, one day, to grief.

I've been thinking of this pandemic, now having spanned winter, into spring, into summer, and have wondered out loud to myself and others, "What's the hardest part?"  For many in my age group it's  the loss of routine, the loss of freedom to go and do as "normal", the long days of at home-ness where one day follows the next in a kind of monotony; the alone-ness.

I am not bored; I am not even alone. Hub and I have cocooned companionably together.  We have mastered Zoom to stay in touch with friends and go to meetings and both have enough interests and curiosity to keep us occupied and stimulated.  We like our simple routines; we like quiet; we like our home and the gardens.  We are mainly content.

So, the hardest part?  For me it is the disconnect from family: my sons, their wives, my two granddaughters.   We have stayed in touch on Zoom, at times unsatisfactorily, especially early on when everyone was shellshocked and stressed.  I have screen shots of some pretty sad and exhausted faces.  But it was better than nothing at all, so we persevered for several weekly meet-ups. 

Then I set up a FB Messenger Family Group which has been more successful, with almost all of us posting updates, photos, and items of interest as the spirit moves.  That's been fun.  On Messenger I did two months of an every morning post of "Mr. Bear's Stay at Home Adventures" for our 5 y/o granddaughter.  I didn't want her to forget our house or her favorite activities here, so I posed her big Teddy Bear in familiar settings doing familiar things and sent her a photo every day.  In response, my son sent a video of her replying to Mr. Bear.  It was a highlight of my day!  (I later created a paperback book of the 60+ Mr. Bear photos for her to keep.)

With the weather turning warmer, and the local cases of Covid flattening out, we've invited some or all of the family here in person for outdoor gatherings.  We physically distance; don't touch anything in common; keep the sanitizer handy.  Hub and I have prepared and served meals in our garden space, with individual tables set far apart.  It's been fun and A LOT of work -- hauling tables and chairs, figuring out the logistics of foods on each separate table -- we essentially set it up like a restaurant and we are the chefs and servers and clean up crew.  The distance from kitchen to yard is such that I get my 10,000 steps in by the time I'm done setting up and executing the event.  Last week we added cards and gifts for everyone -- we had Fathers Day, a daughter-in-law birthday, last day of school, last day of preschool, and a wedding to celebrate!

A wedding....yes.  Son Two and his beautiful fiance were married on May 9.  I can't believe I haven't written about it.  It's a sign of this time that a fog rolls in on what should be a bright day of joy, but ends up feeling unreal, shrouded, physically and emotionally distanced.  They had a big wedding for 250 guests planned with all the traditional bells and whistles. Then the shutdown came.  They agonized over what to do, with several scenarios swirling until, finally, they did all they could do:  they got married in their backyard with two witnesses, an officiant, and a photographer.  The two extended families attended via Zoom.  It took an age for the audio to work, then during the ceremony the screen kept freezing up.  But still, we got to see as best we could, if not really participate.  We are grateful it was a glorious sunshiny day for them.  I loved getting the professional photos -- absolutely lovely.  They rescheduled the big party/reception for later this summer, or if not, then maybe next spring -- there are no guarantees that it will happen; we don't know how long this pandemic will rage.  It is not what they wanted, not at all what any of us could have anticipated for this wedding 18 months in the planning, but they are wed.  They are happy.  And we are proud.

But none of this is how I want it to be.   I especially miss having my grandgirls here to hang out....so many times they would come for the day, or a sleepover.  At the family gathering I read a book (from 8 feet away) to our 5 y/o and she got tears in her eyes and said, "I want to hug you so bad!"  And I said the same, choking back my own tears.  Then I told her to wrap her arms around herself; I did the same.  And we pretended we were hugging each other.  I told her I hug her in my heart every day.  It was a bittersweet moment.   Our 10 y/o granddaughter is changing so fast I feel like I'm missing precious time with her before her interests turn more toward friends and my close relationship with her will take a back seat.  For awhile we Zoomed regularly, then it fell by the wayside as she got busy with online school, her best friend on Messenger Kids, and a new puppy.

As for my sons and their wives -- at first I sent them texts regularly, checking in, offering encouragement, support.  But I rarely heard much back and thought maybe I was hovering too much.  So I stopped doing that, making a declaration to myself on May 2 to back off.  I also moved them from my custom FB friend list where I think they might be overwhelmed with all my brilliant posting of current events, politics, inspirations, information, and selfies.   It just seemed like maybe I was trying to create something that was a one-sided desire, since I realized too many of my FB posts were clandestine messages to them and then I looked with hope for a "like" or a comment.  My god, embarrassing!

I don't mean to imply we are not close; we are.  When we are together it's wonderful and we have a great time. But when we are apart I'm still trying (too hard) to keep that connection going.  They, as it turns out, have full, busy, stressful, joyful, challenging lives that don't include daily outreach to Mom.

This has been the hardest part -- my longing for a closer connection, for more reciprocity from my 'kids'.   What I've grown to see even more clearly is that that longing comes from a perspective of ages and stages.  I know in my 69 year old bones how precious life is; how fragile; how fleeting.  That is the grief side of the coin. Because the love side is how deeply I cherish my family and wish for us to rush into a regular huddle hug, even via text.  But alas...

I was amused to hear the four 30-something "kids" talking about birthdays at our recent backyard dinner and a couple of them now being "mid-30's" and sort of already dreading the big 4-0.  They laughed about the new puppy and that if he lives his expected 15 years, they will be 50!!!...and how shocking that was to realize.  I offered that when I think 15 years ahead, I hope to still be alive. They looked a bit shocked at that.  They think we are here forever.  They think we all have all the time in the world.  We do not.

The hardest part?  That this virus has robbed us all of precious time together.  That this virus is deadly and to thwart it we must sacrifice irretrievable moments of deep connection, of sharing space together, of hugging not just with our hearts, but also with our arms.  That realization, every day, brings me to tears.  Then, I take a deep breath, find gratitude in health and so much more, and carry on.

At least, that's the view from here...©

I WANT TO DO BETTER

I wish my brain was still working in tip-top condition.  But that ship seemed to have sailed some time ago, exacerbated by the Covid 19 shutdown of the past 3 months when I've mostly settled into a comfortable cocoon of fear, worry, sadness, grief, Zoom, coloring mandalas, and watching Netflix.  That is to say, I have not been in the practice of the "use or lose it" creation of new brain cells.

So, I'm not sure I can give this topic its due.  It's big and multi-faceted and seems to have come to the fore overnight.  And THAT, my friends, is the voice of White Privilege.  Overnight?  Hardly.

The death of George Floyd on May 25th, the victim of Minneapolis police killing, has sparked a culture shift.  We are on Day 12 of daily/nightly protests from coast to coast.  Big cities see thousands and thousands of people marching and rallying; small towns smaller numbers but still turning out.  Everyone is finally "woke" to what generations of black Americans have always known -- the system is sick and wrong and deadly for them.  Resources abound for us white folk to do some soul searching and self-education on racial issues, confronting our own privilege and inaction.  Police Departments are overhauling their training procedures and questioning the police code of silence that protects them from consequences -- new inquiries are being opened on old cases of victims deaths at the hands of the police.  Politicians, movies stars, sports figures, corporations and businesses have spoken out and issued statements of support for equality and promising to do better.  Even the NFL has admitted they were wrong to punish  former SF Quarterback Colin Kapernick's kneeling during the anthem silent protest years ago over police brutality toward black people that left him out in the cold and unemployable in the NFL.

Of course we are not all holding hands and singing Kumbaya; the white supremacists are out en force too and it is at times a very scary scene.  Armed "protectors" take up positions of intimidation in some vigilante attempt to stop looters from stealing stuff at Crate and Barrel.  Some "outside agitators" with ties to white supremacist groups have come in after dark to start and encourage the looting and fires in an attempt to bring judgement down upon the black protestors, who may or may not be part of the nighttime melee.

And our current president has done nothing to show empathy, understanding, or ability to calm and reassure.  He demands instead, that the police "dominate" the protestors, and if they won't he will call in the U.S. military to do it for them.

Here's his abhorrent act this week, which I mention because it will likely show up in history books:  He ordered Lafayette Park cleared of peaceful protestors (using rubber bullets and tear gas and officers on horseback) in the early evening hours so he could take a walk outside the White House grounds to an historic church that had been damaged by fire in one of the nighttime protests gone bad.  He did not speak there; he did not even enter.  He stood in front of the church holding a Bible aloft (some reported it was held upside down) as if hawking it on the Shopping Channel, assuming a serious scowl likely meant to make him look badass and/or grief-stricken (but mostly gaseous) and just stood there for a photo op.  The next day the White House issued a professionally done music video showing him looking strong and valiant in his walk to the church through a phalanx of riot-geared police lining the walkway for him.  He got his War Presidency moment, I guess.  This is America, the Banana Republic, at the moment.  Today he has had a second layer of fencing installed surrounding the White House grounds to protect him.  He has his wall.

People say we are at an "inflection point".  Why did this police killing get the attention that others did not to this degree? What was the tipping point?  Maybe seeing the video of a police officer digging his knee into the neck of handcuffed 46 year old George Floyd and not relenting for 8 minutes and 46 seconds in spite of the man begging to be let up, repeating several times, "I can't breathe", calling out for his mama, and finally lying motionless, dead, with his face still held tight against the pavement.

Maybe that video more than the others we've seen of police brutality finally was enough.  Maybe the Covid Pandemic "stay home" orders and the 20% unemployment rate because of it created the perfect storm of enough (white) people paying attention -- not too distracted by their jobs and busy lives to look up and see what has been right in front of us all along.  Maybe black people could not take one more killing at the hands of police without exploding.

As for me, I will not even attempt to justify myself with any words that sound like, "Yes, racism is awful, but I'm not racist! " Maybe not, but I've sure benefitted from a racist system and have done little to educate myself or act specifically on behalf of African American people.  I've been complacent because I can be.  I've been silent because I'm afraid of saying something wrong or of offending.  I've stayed out of the fight because I don't know what to do and don't want to presume anything.  My whiteness seems like it would just get in the way or be presumptuous.  But what I can do is listen more intently, read more widely, advocate more broadly, and educate myself more deeply.

I've downloaded some resources and I'm ready to take a dive into a world I've long known about but never truly visited, even though it's existed right here, right in my line of sight.  I've looked without seeing, heard without listening. I've smiled, laughed, hugged, worked alongside black friends without truly understanding black people, and their every day racist experiences, in my community.  I want to do better.

At least, that's the view from here...©