I’m one of the lucky people who can stay home, pick up groceries curbside, and walk in a shady neighborhood. My husband and I are in good health, we have cats to pet, a TV to watch at night, and more yarn than I could knit in 10 years. So, I have nothing to complain about. That hasn’t prevented me from cycling through a series of emotional challenges. I’ve decided to write stuff down on the off 1 in a million chance that it helps someone else.
The crux of the matter is that the coronavirus kills some people and makes others very sick, especially folks in my lofty age bracket. That is the first thing I had to face. Everyone over 8 years old knows that we all die eventually, but in my mind – well, that’s the thing, it wasn’t in my mind. It was a vague easy-to-ignore thing that would happen after I turned 100, maybe. So, that was the first hard thing about the pandemic, having to consider that I might not live forever. But I’m alive now, which brings up the next thing – time.