World turned Grey                                       

    My writing muse has been blocked for quite some time. But now, the spilling of my emotional guts via the written word has begun. I wish I could write about something happy and uplifting, but my world and probably everyone else's has changed irreparably. Living in the suburbs of N.Y., on Long Island, in the specter of the coronavirus, a modern day plague, has opened up the floodgates. My thoughts were muddled at first, because I had no words to even come to grips as to what was happening.  And now, it's all pouring out of me like lava.

   This is just how I, a single, mid-life female, who is a Mother to 3 grown children, and daughter to one 100 year old Mother, is dealing and coping in these difficult times. Quarantine, sheltering in place, social distancing, masks, hand washing for 20 seconds while singing Happy Birthday twice have become routine.  But for me, the hand washing  tune will be Elton John's "Saturday's Alright for Fighting".  All new phenomenons, all strange, sinister and uncomfortable.

  Apocalyptic, surreal, like a zombie land, our daily life became like a bad TV movie, or a low budget sci-fi horror flick.  I'd wake up every morning in the hopes that I was in the middle of  a nightmare, but I wasn't; just in the reality of another day of  mandatory sheltering. #StayHome trended, became imprinted as our new mantra, if we wanted to live!  My gym where I work closed, some of my friends were out of work, others worked from home,or  home-schooled their kids.  We were in the midst of this alternate reality, and it hasn't gotten measurably better yet.

   What seemed like such a faraway illness, originating in China, had hit home, here in the U.S. like a sledgehammer.  Finding its hot spot in New York City, my home town. I started narrowing my time watching the news or reading about it on social media, because I just end up crying, and that was happening several times a day.  I woke up one morning to check facebook, greeted by this post: How awful is it that people are dying in hospitals, with no loved one to hold their hand, or say goodbye. What a stark, awful reality...and I could not go back to sleep.

   I've been working out like a crazy person, daily -  zumba, weights, yoga, to keep myself sane.  And for those couple of hours, the heaviness lifts and I feel alive and healthier.  The rest of the morning is spent, foraging for food and paper goods, like one of the contestants on "Naked and Afraid" desperately in search of sustenance and necessities.  Where can I find toilet paper, fresh produce, coffee, at a reasonable price,  delivered... and by when?  I have not gone into any stores in 4 weeks, relying on curbside drop offs and delivery.  To explain, I live with a relative who is auto-immune compromised, and we are taking all precautions.

Sausage & Peppers

   When all the stuff I ordered finally comes, I don gloves, then lysol spray all the bags,leaving them on my porch, gingerly removing the contents and bringing them into the house. Then I wash my hands at least 3 times, wiping down the milk containers, mayo jars, emptying the produce into clean bags. Eating is not pleasant...there is not sense of satiety or normalcy or enjoyment.  Rather, it's survival mode. The tastes of food are muted, even the usual joy of cooking is hardly existent. Although, I've cooked more this month, than I probably have all year. Also, had my first virtual Seder with my kids. We had the matzoh ball soup and read the 4 questions, but it felt different, like we were trying hard to recreate old memories, uneasily.

  As for necessary social distancing, that has also become surreal and more like anti-social distancing.  Walking my dog used to be a happy little journey.  Now it was an exercise in avoidance of humans.  I live in a complex, so when I'd see people coming, I would veer off in another direction, and they would do the same.  No smiles, no waves, there were just zombie like expressions on my neighbor's faces as they'd stare ahead, avoiding eye contact.

   There were some bright spots that I observed on TV.  There was the 88 yr old grandma singing Happy Birthday to herself, the 70 yr old doctor who recovered from COVID-19, leaving the hospital to applause... the Maimonides ER doc who was sickened and returned to work...the sounds of the 7 pm applause and cheers in NYC for the frontline workers: the EMT's, NYPD, FDNY and Hospital medical staff. Those stories lifted my spirits.

   Several weeks have passed since I started this post. All the beaches in my area of Long Island are closed, so no more sunset walks, which were my moments of serenity.  Masks are now required for anyone who can not social distance, 6 feet apart, from the next guy. So I bought myself a kitschy poodle decorated mask, which I'm sure I'll be needing for the long haul.

   My thoughts have turned to the immediate future.  When will I see my Mom in Brooklyn, my kids, my friends, go to a restaurant, return to the gym to work? Concerts, my fun times of music and dance in the summer may not happen at all. There is a fear now of any type of group socializing, of touch, of contact. We have happy hours, listen to music, work, joke, virtually, but there's an overall aura of sadness in some of these meetings. Perhaps it's the longing for face to face human contact, or the
fear of an uncertain return to normalcy. I'll report back in a few weeks. Looking for signs of hope right now.