Veranda

My sincere hope was that I would not have to write this post. But, alas, here we are, seven months and counting and the big C-19 is still with us. It has changed our lives in unimaginable ways and continues to shape shift as all monsters do. The list of heroes continues to grow and at risk of offending any group who is toiling away in situations that require them to serve others in capacities that are uncomfortable to their own well-being, I simply say, "Thank You!". You know who you are and I am forever grateful to you for your unselfishness and courage. 

We have also added nuanced meanings to our vocabulary choices. Masks are no longer just related to Halloween or convenience store robberies. They are actually fashion statements and the stuff of daily commercials. Quarantine immediately implies 14-days, self-imposed or otherwise. Pandemic is not just a word from our history books. It is painfully real. Shortages are also painful and words like toilet paper and meat still make me wince a bit. Hoarding is no longer just a creepy, voyeuristic show on television. It is a choice we all grapple with. Bottles of hand sanitizers are chained down at many retail centers, encouraging customers to use before shopping but, please, keep the bottle out of your purse. On-line grocery shopping has been with us for many years but has exploded in the past few months to a level few would predict in such a short time. My grocery store has an entire parking lot wing dedicated to the pick-up of on-line orders as compared to a few parking slots just a few months ago. I have not taken advantage of the service as I am using my old tried-and-true method of arriving at stores when they first open. I usually have the grocery store to myself so social distancing is not a problem. And I am horrible at navigating the one-way aisle situation so I only have to apologize to the on-line shoppers. 

The term that I could have never predicted but has become a very real part of my life is "window visits". My ninety-two-year-old mother is being carefully protected in an assisted living home. It is no secret that she belongs to the most dangerous demographic and their group living status makes it even more precarious. Wisely, the residents are not allowed to have outside visitors which has, of course, changed how we take care of our loved ones. Gone is my ability to join mom in weekly church services and other facility activities. I can no longer drop by for a cup of tea and a cookie. I am unable to tidy up her piles of "I-might-need-that-someday" stuff. (Tidying is another way of saying "dump-when-she is-not-looking. Don't judge.) And a slice from a rhubarb pie I just made is not so easily shared with her. But, we do have our window visits now. Because my mom's room faces an interior courtyard she is required to meet me at a window that faces the facility's veranda. At first we found it awkward and uncomfortable. My choice of masks in the beginning confused her, especially if it was my Minnesota Twins mask. She thought I was teasing her with some kind of crazy writing on my mask (her eyes are not the sharpest). Now I only wear the standard blue disposable mask. We deal with weather's capriciousness by selecting days and times that are the most comfortable. The roof on the veranda provides shade and there is often a breeze that cools my sweating mask face. She enjoys the wafting of warm air on her arthritic knees and I enjoy the occasional blast of conditioning that reaches me. My mother's dementia helps her forget that we visited any other way. And I am grateful for a way to connect beyond the telephone. 

There is one term I will never adopt and that is "new normal." Folks, our current situation is NOT normal. I agree that we are making different decisions at this time, rightly so, but the configuration of relationships as they stand now should not be viewed as normal. My crystal ball has never functioned well so I have no prediction as to when we will be able to revert back to sanity but I know that we have to soldier on and take care of others in ways that make sense to us for now. And my heartfelt prayer is that we will have the patience and discernment to persevere. 

Carry on, dear friends.