Tag Archives: pandemic

IF I SHALL HAVE DESCENDANTS

 

The life force and the pandemic persist. We abide. Endure this volatile time of anti-vaxxer protests holding up hospitals and a fourth wave. I think of the future, my son, my one and only precious offspring and wonder what I’ve gotten him into. At 27 he is in no hurry to settle down and have children. Certainly I don’t blame him. I was so ambivalent about the decision that I didn’t give birth until the last possible minute. A good decision, it turns out. He will never be one of my regrets. I do suffer grandma envy though. Who knows. The future is unwritten. Apparently I must write about it. And as uncertain as it is, can only speculate.

 

IF I SHALL HAVE DESCENDANTS

Shall I presume my descendants
will not know my name?
Shall I presume
my descendants will not care?
I care about my grandmother
though I never knew her.
Do I know her mother’s name?
That could be a short bloodline.

Our descendants are busily alive,
some having served in Afghanistan
immediately after breast stroking
through university, its Olympic sized pools.

Several are currently detained in China,
suspended within an excruciating wait
for “quiet diplomacy” to kick in,
while others populate
pandemic frontlines in hot spots
India, Brazil and the U.S.

This is no time to cry.
There is no time to collapse
though we must seek stress relief
and quality sleep; eight hours
every night. Seven minimum.

We have birthed the same soldiers,
priests, evangelists, titans,
police and politicians
every other generation conceived.

Perhaps our influencers,
media personalities and content creators
can save Mother Earth.
I suppose that qualifies as hope.

Is she still referred to as Mother Earth?
That’s what this sweet old orb
is to me and my generation,
the generation young folk
are relieved to see dying off,
for they are more
than mere descendants,
they are redeemers.

I hear the birth rate is slowing
in parts of the world.
Perhaps our descendants
are our mothers.
Know best.

STEERING THROUGH THE CURVE

from http://mtelegraph.com/seafarers-tattoos-and-their-meaning.html

“Pandemic.” Since March 11. Global. Lethal.

Ahoy maties! It’s been approximately two months since my last entry and these past two months feel like an eternity. What was a “corona virus” has evolved into “Covid-19” for  “coronavirus disease of 2019.” Blithely celebrating New Year’s Eve we had no idea how much this plague would radically alter our lives.

I’m pretty useless these days, feeling numb, scatter-brained. I’m frightened, confused, anxious, overwhelmed. And high risk, apparently. Every time I sniffle, feel a hint of sore throat or headache I must work hard to tamp down panic. Certainly I’m not alone in that but I am isolated, Staying Home as much as possible in order to “flatten the curve,” stave off a surge in new cases, steering through this hard curve the only course.

Fack. I’m starting to talk to myself. Or, think out loud. Can you say, “cabin fever”?

In an “isolationship” because my boyfriend and I have symptoms of what is likely a cold, or spring allergies in my case but who knows? It’s not as if we can get tested. I would be mortified if ever responsible for spreading anything, especially to our sons.

That said, mine escorted me to the 24-hour supermarket for a midnight run to avoid the crowds. He knows my cupboards are bare, that I’m struggling so paid for my groceries! Though he will always remain my boy I’ve managed to raise a good man. A mensch. After much agonizing I finally decided to don a mask but  couldn’t because it fogged up my glasses!

I’m rambling. Hard to hold onto one’s sanity. Stay Safe. Stay Sane! Junior said I was driving erratically. At least there was no traffic. Hah! But hey, we scored toilet paper! So it was all worth it, right?

My focus is gone. Incredible how everyone, everywhere is focused on one thing, one extraordinary event. The tension is oppressive but it is a novel virus, no one knows how this thing will end. We are smack dab in the throes of it. A fucking crisis!

But, I will write because now I have time. At last! Only have to convince myself it matters.

My heart breaks for all those who have lost loved ones and I must thank our brave and dedicated nurses, doctors, first responders and working class heroes; truckers, cashiers, hospital cleaning staff, delivery drivers, posties. I love how communities around the world have spontaneously come out on their balconies in the evenings to pay tribute and cheer them on. So heartening! And as moving as this Lego animation of Prime Minister Trudeau’s message to Canadian kids. It’s a little hokey but I find myself feeling emotional lately, heartened to see good things like kindness and compassion spreading as well.

I thought 2019 sucked! All I had to contend with was a broken arm, ensuing loss of income, thought 2020 would provide a bit of a respite, that I’d at least semi-retire, despite no real savings or RRSPs. (A whole other can o’ worms.)

In any case, we’re doing okay in BC. Hanging in. On. I’m worried about my bestie who lives and works in NYC. We were discussing what a shit show the un-United States is. I am so grateful to be Canadian. We are not morally superior and I like Americans but cannot understand what is happening down there. Okay, don’t get me started. I will work on my manuscript, have a private party/ happy hour and blast some tunes. I am also grateful for music, for spring. Birdsong. Love. The life force is relentless. Just, hold fast!