Taking stock of my life in this age of pandemic, I’m finding out a lot about myself. Take yesterday for instance … my hospital Facebook video didn’t load so I had to re-video myself three times. My internet didn’t work at my house yesterday because the whole company was down because someone cut a wire* and my TV receiver busted (DISH) … I quickly became Amish. The electronic world hated Steve Simonin on April 9, 2020. What did I learn about myself? That patience and a calm demeanor and thinking outside of the box go a long ways. My cellphone became a hotspot and powered my internet bike and computer and I called the second DISH opened and they over-nighted a new receiver and my internet company fixed their problem mid-morning. The video yesterday? I’m going to do it differently now and it’ll work. I didn’t scream or stomp (… one more thing would have put me over the edge …) but in the age of pandemic, so much worse could happen.
When I watch the news and see New York City empty and all the hospital stuff going on and the spread and … Well, it’s horrible and I can’t help think, thank God we’re not experiencing the same. Hopefully, we won’t. But the road is long to the end of this and even if we don’t see a rise in the amount of sick in our area, we still need to be vigilant. Meaning, this mask/isolation/alone stuff isn’t going away for at LEAST 3 weeks. We’re barely halfway there. (FYI, I will stomp soon, and probably throw something and if it snows - I will definitely be screaming.)
T.S. Eliot wrote that April is the cruelest month**. He was talking about the emergence of spring and rekindling of memories for him; however, for us though this year it is nothing short of punishing. But … this too shall pass and we will emerge better and stronger and wiser. It is up to us to choose our path. Choose wisely, friends. This is an opportunity.
*call before you dig.
**April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
