After my last, sad post, I had so many friends and friends of friends reach out to share their stories and their grief. This sharing (although I’m terrible about replying) brings peace by reminding me that I am not alone. I read, reread, and sit with every comment because it creates a connection with the goodness that we all have in hearts and souls.
A one sentence Facebook comment, just the words “me too,” brings me out of my darkness and restores a bit of faith in humanity.
I had one beautiful soul ask me if I was suicidal. I assured her that I am not. The thing that keeps me from going there is the fact that I have 3 boys who need a mama.
Which is exactly why I get so sad and so afraid. There are millions of us who need our mamas or papas or sons, daughters, grandparents, friends. Every single person who gets sick belongs to someone; someone is worried about their health; someone will grieve if they die.
This fact alone should be unifying us during this time, not dividing us.
My writing provides relief for me. I get to pour out my feelings, blather on about me, me, me, and then receive lots of love from around the world.
There are so many that don’t have anything like this. Not everyone has a forum to vent, unload, share. They are sitting in their own fear, alone. And those people are also not receiving the same amount of love and support that I am because they are completely isolated.
Not everyone has the privileges that I do during this pandemic. I have a beautiful home in which to isolate. I’m an isolator by nature so this is actually a much-needed respite from the input overload that I normally experience. But unfortunately, this is not the case for those who need more sustained human connection.
I have a partner who I love, who makes this quietude a sweet time for connecting on a deeper level. We have jobs. We have dogs. Our dogs have jobs; they are on prairie dog patrol. So far, my family and friends are all healthy.
I don’t yet need a haircut.
And yet I know that this could all change in the blink of an eye. I don’t take a second of my ease for granted. Each and every one of us is so very vulnerable. I don’t know a single person who hasn’t, at some moment, thought, “I could die.”
That’s a sobering thought. Even more frightening when “I” expands into “my mom, my son, my best friend.”
My hope is that my writing, while selfishly bringing me relief, shall bring others a sense of connection and community – especially those who feel out of touch with their fellow humans.
Consider this a virtual hug.