dianegclark

Five short weeks ago, a friend mentioned that Sparrow coffee was permanently closing due to covid. Just a comment made in passing. I woke up early, at 5:30, the following morning and thought, “we need to buy that coffee shop.”

I texted Dave who is always awake at that hour. I got an immediate response. He was pumped up, on fire, ready. He said he had experience running a coffee shop in the past. He was on it, making plans, dreaming, scheming. This is right up his alley, fellowship, connections, music, food, coffee, pouring into people, high energy.

Dave texted after Scott got up and said Scott gave him the go ahead to find out more. Dave got in touch with the current owners, a church, and they gave him some figures. Scott and I started talking. Scott did not feel peace about it. Dave and I felt it would happen, it was supposed to happen. Typically, Dave is the dreamer, the risk taker, and Scott is the planner, the realist. I am somewhere in between but leaning hard to the dreamer risk taker, more like jump in and then face reality later.

The next several weeks were full of Dave and Scott talking business and Dave and I dreaming. Scott started mixing in dreams too. We finally settled on a business partnership model we could agree on. Dave would manage it. Scott will oversee the business end. I will do the social media and work there some.

Over the next few weeks, Dave met with bad news about his financial part again and again. Not because he doesn’t have good credit, but because investors and lenders are really cautious right now due to covid. Scott was still having trouble trouble finding peace but also talking about dreams. He and Dave met and came up with the name and the vibe.

Once Dave got his 5th no, he texted with Scott and me and we put the idea to bed.

Two hours later I got a text from Calvin, our shared landlord, asking for Dave’s number. Shortly after, we got a text from Dave. Scott and Dave talked. The landlord was making a crazy low offer. The current owners were also making a crazy offer. Dave looked at his finances and savings and he and Scott crunched some more numbers and suddenly we were a go.

Scott had already done some deep analysis. Dave gathered tons of information about how the coffee shop was being run, the books, costs, etc. With a few tweaks to hours, number of employees, the way the ordering is done and adding outdoor seating, and it looked like we can make a profit. Covid is certainly a factor. But if we can stay afloat and break even until covid passes, we can make this work.

Now we are excited. Dave made a video announcement on facebook. The previous owners gave us a public blessing. We immediately began getting really great feedback.

Dave hit the ground running. Scott hit the computer running. Huge to do lists. The business end of things, the actual shop, the plans, the changes, the dreams.

We are planning to stay open more hours, until 10 each night. The coffee shop closed at 4 every day before. We will open Sundays, it was closed before. We ordered outdoor tables and chairs to offer more social distancing and healthier options for staying safe. We are working on online ordering and pick up. We are planning live music, outdoors to start with. We can do our music there. We can sell my book. We can have Chad make some cool leather products. We are ordering t shirt and masks for the employees and then to sell. We are taste testing coffee and pastries. Dave has cleaned the whole place and is interviewing and hiring. So far, all the applicants have been previous employees and they are excited to work there again.

The place itself is amazing. It is big. Tons of parking. Great location near KSU and MCC. It has a conference room with rolling walls. It already has all the equipment including dishes. It is wired with a great sound system. The decor is amazing. When we have been down there, people are stopping by to see what is going on.

We are very excited. I’m excited about having my therapy office so nearby. Covid go to you know where, we are doing this!

Grief sucks.

I was going to write more but that pretty much sums it up.

I have grieved many times in my life. I was sad when pets died when i was little. My maternal Grandma died when I was in elementary school. I loved her but mostly I remember my Mom’s tears.

We lost our family pet soon after my parent’s got divorce. My brother kicked the fridge. The divorce was a terrible time. It was complicated grief because I was also so very very relieved.

I lost my paternal Grandmother a few weeks before I got married. She had moved to California years before that so with the wedding busyness and not having seen her in years, I remember being sad but not so much grieving. I carried her hankerchief in the wedding then lost it. I had her ring for years and it was very special to me. I lost it, too. I don’t feel sad when I remember my Grandma “Nonnie” or my Grandad. I carry their love in my heart. (Sounds trite but I can feel it).

We lost my step sister to cancer a year after my Mom and Lee got married. That was sad, but mostly I was sad for Lee. I had only known her for a year. She was special to me but I don’t remember intense grief.

Three miscarriages occurred, one before I was married and two after. I remember incredible sadness for what would have been, rather than for what was. And I grieved with Scott.

We were sad when Lee died. And when Julie’s husband Larry died. Sad for Mom, sad for Julie. I did love Lee and I did grieve. The celebration of life was hard. I still miss him.

We lost family pets. Allie dog. Rex died in March. He had been sick so long and so close to death so many times before, I was prepared. I handled it much better than I thought, being sure I would fall apart. I do miss him. I look for him. I feel super sad when I look at videos.

Losing Julie was hard. Unfair. Too soon.

Other losses have also been super hard in my life. Jobs, friendships, close friends who have died.

And now my brother. I still don’t feel like it has hit me. My brain can’t quite grasp it. I talked to him every couple of weeks and saw him only every few months. But if I needed him, I could call.

The hardest part was telling my Dad. And my Mom. Not knowing how to grieve. My Mom and I talk about how we feel daily. And my sister in law. We all feel so heavy. Overwhelmed. It is different than how I thought it would be. More physical. It feels like a heavy blanket.

It is incredibly lonely. No one really knows what to say. Or whether to mention it. Some check on me. I don’t know what to say to them.

I just want to sleep. To shut out the world. I need to go be with family. Covid has completely complicated the grieving process. I could just sit with people who are also grieving. I don’t need cheering up. I just need someone to sit with me. To help hold this up. I need to cry but I can’t. I have, some, but I can’t. Even this sounds so depressing to me.

I haven’t written in awhile. Time for an update.

We are all reeling from the sudden death of my brother. It hasn’t completely sunken in. Covid has truly complicated the grief process. I am feeling closer to many family members and helplessly far away from others. I feel the weight of responsibility for my parents and my sweet sister in law. Much to do in the upcoming weeks. Much sadness.

My practice has opened in a temporary location. I am seeing about half my clients in person with many precautions and the others by telehealth. So I only go to the office here and there. It is serene in there and is a great temporary solution even though there is no internet and we have to use the restroom at suds ur duds. I am not filling up quickly but that’s perfectly fine. Summer is slower and I also haven’t done any marketing or promotion. I don’t really like being in practice alone. This isn’t how this was supposed to be. I am trusting that Life Coaching and Massage Therapy will pick up eventually and that we will go into the larger office at the right time. I would like to find another therapist to join me then. So many unknowns.

The book sales have slowed down. I have an event to talk about the book with “Sophie” in September (Kansas Association of School Social Workers) and I assume I will promote the book at the Homestead Salina chapter fundraiser in October. I am hoping to co promote the book with the song “She’s On Her Own” through a music video but that’s sort of on hold.

I am on hold indefinitely on the book sequel as the gal writing it with me was not as ready as we thought. That’s ok. The other gal wasn’t either. I completely understand as I’ve attempted to write a little of my own memoir. Its a difficult process! I am writing a book about covid but it’s mostly just for me.

The music is getting tons of views and good feedback on all outlets but the sales aren’t happening. The vinyl is being pressed. Obviously concerts are unknown. And Chad is super caught up in his business right now. We will press forward in making more videos and get them out there slowly.

The fam is good. I miss them. Hannah and Kent are staying in Lander while job and house hunting in Denver by long distance. Joel’s game won a design award. We will get to see Leah’s family next weekend. She is getting quite pregnant. I would go and help her more but she is still being very covid cautious and also managing her stress level. The boys have been pretty cute on FaceTime lately. Henry is talking so much. Emmet has actual conversations.

We have three gals at Homestead. I haven’t gone horseback riding or to the beach with them lately and missed group last week. We will have a bbq this weekend. They are calm, lovely people.

A final decision about purchasing the coffee shop will be made this week. It would be a slam dunk decision without the complication of covid. It could go either way and I am ok with that.

Scott is well. We are doing well. Growth, healing, learning continues. He recently went on a fishing trip with his buds. We have been playing ping pong and walking and trying to find new adventures.

I’m doing well personally. Lots of learning and healing and personal growth. I need more social connection than is possible right now but I try to go for walks and have people over for “distance coffee”. I think I’m finally getting a handle on this annoying skin rash. Erg. I’m learning to give myself lots of grace during this time of grieving. I will do a professional blog about all the resources I’m discovering lately.

We’ve had Hannah and Kent live here with us for six weeks, then Joel joined us for the last two weeks. Friday we were reunited with Leah and her family (our precious grand babies!) after about 10 weeks, I think.

We loved having Hannah and Kent here. Kent worked from home and Hannah studied and recouped from PT school during the day. I worked, relaxed, did my own thing all day. Scott worked from home then returned to work. Once Joel joined, he too worked from home here.

In the evenings we planned and made meals together, taking turns, and ate together, most nights out on the deck. The kids expanded our repertoire of meals since they all turned out to be adventurous eaters after being fed white mom meals all of their lives. They still appreciated the home cooked mom meals on my night. I did make a sun basket recipe, sweet and sour meatballs and blueberry basil salad that they really liked. Otherwise, I stuck to burgers, spaghetti, and chicken and rice. Hannah and Kent made curry chicken, sobe noodles with spicy peanut sauce, and they and Joel made tacos including homemade guacamole and homemade salsa. Yum. Of course, there were many Pizza Shuttle and Chipotle nights mixed in and also a couple of take out Tap House nights. Unfortunately, the kids are all heavy evening snackers, so we continued to gain weight throughout their time here after blizzard runs, ice cream, popcorn and chip eating during TV time.

We watched a ton of movies and Netflix together in the evenings, the fifth season of Queer Eye, the movie 13th, and more. We did do some work outs together, running stairs (Hannah and Joel and I )some hiking (Kent on his bike and me), and walks. That after our ping pong championship games. Scott, Kent, Joel, Hannah, mom was the order most nights although Hannah won every game one night.

The kids are project oriented people so while they were here, Hannah and Kent completely reorganized and cleaned out all of the kitchen cabinets and the basement, motivating us, motivating Scott, especially to throw and give away years and years of junk. So freeing! Then Joel helped them tackle the attic since a lot of it was their things. I rescued some baby clothes (mine and the kids) that Leah was thrilled with and read some high school and early marriage journals. I have kept journals for most of my life so it is fun to read through some.

After face timing exclusively (other than the distance birthday party) with Leah and the boys, we finally got to see them in person on Friday. I can’t quite express how incredible it was to see them. They were so excited when Hannah and I pulled up. Huge smiles and squeals of joy. They immediately wanted us to play and invited us to their room to build race tracks and play cars. When Hannah, Leah and Henry walked to Mojo’s to get our lunch, Emmet and I played soccer. He had on Joel’s soccer jersey that was way too big for him. While playing, he said, “This is fun, Grandma, you are fun, I like you!” Then he said, “Do you think you could play a little faster?”

Nap time I got to snuggle in Leah’s bed with Emmet. He didn’t sleep but snuggled and then played with my watch. He’s such a sweet, snuggly kid. There’s nothing like it.

After nap time, Dave joined us and we caravaned to Cottonwood Falls to Dave’s parents new second home. My goodness. It is amazing. I loved everything about it. It is huge, grand, remodeled except for the bathrooms which were still awesome, six bedrooms, a full partially finished basement, and huge attic space yet to be finished, a beautiful new eat in kitchen, dining room, living room, sun room, sitting room, butler’s pantry, giant fenced in yard, and large tree covered back patio. So impressive and beautifully and comfortably decorated.

The kids made another delicious taco meal and we ate around the dining room table. /Emmet assigned us all seats and Henry pointed and named us all. I love to hear him say “Grandma” with his adorable little smile.

While we were eating, Henry ran through and tripped on a rug, then picked himself up and showed us his owie knee. I scooped him up and kissed his knee and he was fine. Then he ran through and tripped in exactly the same way. This time, he picked himself up, kissed his own knee and ran off.

Hannah and i got to give the boys their bath and get them ready for bed. Their little precious bodies, bunnsies sticking out of the water when they lay on their tummies made us giggle. I love Emmet’s little muscley arms and Henry’s chunky monkey thighs.

When we got ready to leave, Henry didnt’ want to hug me until I asked Emmet to come give me a hug. Suddenly, Henry opened his arms and leaned into me saying, “Ahhh”. It made my heart sing.

Yesterday was a hard day. So much conflict, so much emotion.

I want to step up and be supportive of black people. I want to educate myself. I am listening. I listened to posts the last few days, black friends, black therapists speaking out, listened to the speakers at the protest. The messages I’m getting are so confusing. Care, have empathy, but you aren’t allowed to care and say you are trying to understand because that isn’t enough, you can’t understand and it hurts. Speak up for us, help our voices be heard, but don’t speak for us. Shut up and listen.

It upset me to hear the Director of RCPD say he cares and he doesn’t allow his officers to treat black people unfairly. He encourages people who are treated wrongly to speak up, his officers to speak up against each other. But that flies in the face of what my black friends are saying. They are pulled over much more frequently than white people. They are made to lie down or sit on the curb and are detained for no reason frequently. In my community. They don’t feel safe to speak up about their concerns.

The bottom line is we ALL have feelings about this. We ALL care. I’m ok with the riots because I understand the emotion behind it. A trauma response to feeling so helpless and angry for so long. A desperate attempt to be heard when they have felt so unheard for so long. It makes me upset that it had to resort to this for sure.

My heart also goes out to the police, most of whom are doing their jobs. They are afraid every day too. They are being hurt and killed in higher proportion right now too. Are many in the wrong? Yes! Are many behaving in racist, unfair ways? Hell yes.

We ALL have a responsibility to look deep inside and examine our own beliefs, values, motivations, behaviors. We must treat ALL with respect and kindness. We MUST speak up constructively when rights are being violated. We MUST all work together to figure out how to change what is broken, to right the wrongs. It will take trust and communication to do that. No more sides. Working together.

We can do that here. Please, hear our voices, too. We DO care. We DO want to understand. We DO want to stand with you and help you. Please let us.

The last two Saturdays, I’ve had the opportunity to go riding with the Homestead girls. Broken Wing Ranch ministries is letting the girls and volunteers ride with them, horse therapy. God knows I need all the therapy I can get. We only have two girls right now at Homestead and only one of them really likes to ride, so we all get to benefit.

Last Saturday, Donna, Kortney, Dacia and I rode. Kourtney and Dacia went on the trail ride while Donna and I pet the other horses and waited. It is lovely out there so we enjoyed ourselves. The other horses enjoyed the attention, too.

The last half hour, Donna and I rode. I was disappointed in myself that I had to use the steps to get up there. I rode BuckEye. The second I got in the saddle, my anxiety kicked in. Karen, the ranch owner, said he could feel every bit of anxiety in me. Therefore, he didn’t trust me. Thanks, Buck Eye, not helpful. He tolerated riding me around the arena even though it was muddy and he had to put in a lot of effort. As I calmed down, he started following my leads more. We went around the outside of the arena in circles and then stayed to the inside when Donna and the helper gal started trotting around the outside path. So Karen pushed me outside my comfort zone and made me direct Buckeye to go in circles and then back up. It made me anxious again. I finally said I was done so she let me get off of him.

Yesterday, I had planned to go and just pet the horses and hang out again, then decided not to go til later as we were going to go to a bonfire after. Alicia called and said Karen wanted me out there and I would be riding. So I went. I love the drive out there anyway. I had the windows down and sang Chris Stapleton at the top of my lungs. Its a beautiful drive, highway 57.

I got up on ol’ Buckeye the second I got there. I had pet him a couple of times before I got on and he turned his head away from me. Sorry, buddy, I’m not your favorite rider. As soon as I got on, we headed out for the trail ride. I just took charge and he followed my lead.

The first part of the ride, I nervous chattered with Karen tons. I hope she recognized that’s what it was. Alicia and Kortney were on the other horses. They were quiet from a full day of cleaning rentals for a friend. Buckeye and I did fine. The trail was beautiful, out through the prairie then through the woods. I calmed down greatly until Karen said we were headed for hills and that Buckeye tended to stumble. She said I needed to lean back in the saddle and hold the reins back so he wouldn’t try to trot downhill. That was a little nerve wracking as we then went up and down many hills across creeks and gullies. I got used to that and then Buckeye decided he was hungry and kept stopping to eat grass and take bites out of tree limbs. I wasn’t supposed to let him do that but the stinker kept doing it anyway. Then he got the bright idea he would trot. He tried repeatedly even though I did all the right things to make him stop. He tried everything he could to take advantage of my inexperience.

I enjoyed the ride even with the anxiety. My legs did get sore in weird places because the stirrups weren’t fit perfectly since I’m so short. But overall, I was very glad I went and glad I pushed out of my comfort zone.

Afterwards, we drove further down highway 57 the other direction, through Grandview plaza to intern Jamie’s house on old highway 40. She and her husband had a bonfire going and we roasted hotdogs and marshmallows for s’mores over the fire. It was a lot of fun. Jamie and her family are a blessing.

I i I attended the peaceful protest today against racism and injustice after the killing of George Floyd by excessive police force. I was invited to the facebook event last night. This morning, I got up late and when I heard my daughter stirring around upstairs getting ready to go, I knew I couldn’t sit in my middle class white privilege on my beautiful deck and just keep scrolling. I knew I needed to go stand with others. If I couldn’t give two hours of my life to stand up for injustice, who am I?

It breaks my heart to hear about racism and discrimination. Not just by police but by landlords, business owners, teachers, administrators, politicians, all those who use their power unfairly. It exists daily for our black brothers and sisters. As I have read again and again, the fear they have to feel just for the color of their skin, it breaks my heart.

I couldn’t stay silent and scroll by anymore. Liking, even sharing, even commenting on a post is not enough. Sometimes I get caught up in feeling helpless, not knowing what to do. I need to get educated. Today, I needed to go and stand. And march. And chant.

This was not a protest against police. I know enough from my training that the police are forced to make very quick decisions moment to moment day in and day out that most of us couldn’t even fathom. They also live in fear for their lives every moment of every day. They put their lives on the line for each of us every day. After awhile, because of what they see and experience, their brains start to narrow. They start seeing things as all or nothing, people as good or bad. They start seeing danger in every interaction. They develop hyper vigilance and adrenaline that causes them to react in ways that cause mistakes. They stop seeing people as people in order to survive emotionally. They shut down. They suffer. They are looked down on if they reach out for help. I read a beautiful post written by a retired officer that I wanted to repost because it explained perfectly what officers go through. But the article said that this incidence wasn’t racism.

Let me be clear. What happened to George Floyd was not due to PTSD. It was racism. This man made a decision and went against his training to do the unthinkable. All it would have taken was for one of the other officers to say, I got him, let up. This is the injustice we marched for. Against the officers who stood by. Against the witnesses who taped it and stood by. Against the legal system that hesitated to act immediately to bring justice.

The system is broken. Departments need funding for training, funding for treatment for PTSD, for the stigma of getting help to stop, for officers to step up to and for each other. For all of us to step us and say, you can’t do this any more. For the training and help and support they need to happen.

I went through training as an educator. To examine my own opinions and behaviors. I was observed and given feedback specifically in treatment of race. That’s the kind of training needed. Statistics taken and evaluated and changes made. And bad people fired.

Racism does not just exist in the police. We see it in life and death situations because the police have the ability to use violence in order to keep us safe. But racism exists everywhere. It exists in our hearts. We have to start by reaching into our own hearts. We all hold prejudices. We have to start with examining our own fears, our own beliefs, our own attitudes. We have to speak up when we hear racism and injustice. We have to act.

My heart breaks when I hear stories of black people living in fear, fear for themselves, fear for their children. My heart broke today when i turned around and my black friend said she was surprised to see me there. My heart broke when the leader of the protest talked about being stopped in the middle of the night after attending a funeral and was made to lie down just because of the color of his skin, here in my community. My heart broke to see the the young black kid carrying a sign today that said, “Stop killing us.”

But I was proud. Proud of everyone who showed up today on short notice. Proud of my officer friends standing by this morning, to protect the protestors from the traffic. I saw you clapping along with the chants. I saw you giving a the bullhorn to the leaders to use. I heard you, Director, your statement saying you will not stand for this kind of behavior here.

Today was a start. A start of a long conversation. I want those who are treated unfairly to feel safe to speak up. I will help them be heard. I want to educate myself. I want to make a difference. My brothers and sisters, black and white, my police friends, I stand with you all. No more injustice. No more blame. No more silence. Black lives matter.

Emmet turned four today. We went to his birthday party but we sat on the other side of the fence about ten feet away for COVID safety purposes. Leah and Dave worked so hard to make it special. I think the boys had fun. Emmet looked sad to me quite a bit but he was also tired. It was extremely emotional for everyone with mixed emotions of sadness and great joy. Overall it was a success, I think, the best we could do with social distancing.

We greeted the boys through the window. They were very excited to see us. Leah said she has explained all of this as best she can to Emmet as they’ve had lots of friends do distance visits. After the window greeting and getting set up at our table out back in the side yard, i went into the bathroom and cried hard. It was so heart wrenching to not be able to hug them. Then I pulled it back together.

The kids fixed our plates, a wonderful meal of bbq brats, and put them on a table by the gate that we then picked up and ate on a table on our side of the fence. The boys played with little cars in the dirt then Leah put their homemade cardboard cars on and they had races. Henry was so cute as he’d run forward then slowly backed up every time. They were like turtles when they fell and had to have help getting up.

The boys seemed pretty unaffected by us not being able to touch them for the most part. Toward the end, Henry started naming us and putting little cars through the fence as gifts for us, sort of like consolation prizes. I was “Maw” yesterday. Emmet counted us several times and kept coming up with five (there were four of us).

As we were winding down to leave, Henry kept coming up to the fence with his little arms spread to give us his goodbye hugs. I had to walk away.

The end was hard. We said goodbye through the window. Emmet put the sweetest little expression on his face and mouthed the words “I love you” over and over. He looked so sad. I felt like my heart was being crushed. I miss him so so much.

Henry giggled when i went over to his window. His smile helped me get in the car and make our getaway, waving through at Emmet in the other window, his little face looking sad to see us go. It’s hard to say good bye regardless when we’ve had a good visit.

I haven’t blogged in awhile partly because I am currently writing two books. One book, COVIC 19, isn’t necessarily for publication, it is for me to process and someday look back at, maybe share with the grandkids. Since the virus has been the biggest thing in my life besides seeing clients again, and private issues, I haven’t had tons of other things to blog about. Every now and then I share a chapter or two from COVID 19.

The other book is the story of another “Haven” girl. It will be similar but also different from “She’s On Her Own”, not just because their stories are different, but because they have very different personalities and voices. This one skips around a lot with some twists. I think it will be more of a memoir. She’s On Her Own was too, really, very little was fictionalized.

So. The only other interesting thing that is happening right now is the music. The album is out. Released. Available on pretty much all music platforms. Scott and Chad and also Dave have put hours upon hours of promoting and marketing. We have a virtual street team of people who help us share on social media. We are making lyric videos and music videos and do “live performances” of the songs. We started a You Tube channel. We paid to get some reviews and they are very positive. We are getting a lot of views and great feedback. The sales are…. ok. We are in the process of pressing vinyl, 200 collector copies that will come out in August. We are promoting one song at a time as we go. We have no idea when we will get to perform live or what that will look like. We anticipated more radio attention and more interviews, etc. That isn’t happening, most likely due to covid, but who knows?

I am mostly just involved in the “live videos” (besides sharing on my facebook and instagram pages). This is a new experience for me. Chad lays down the acoustic guitar video track and sends it to Dave. Dave records his lead vocals and sends it back to Chad. Chad videos himself singing his parts, some leads, some third above harmony. He sends it to us. We listen with headphones and sing our parts, separately. I either double up the third above with Chad or sing the fifth above harmony. Scott sings the third below. I have never sang for a “camera” before. It is not easy! Then I have to completely lower my expectations for how I sound singing a harmony part by myself when I play it back. We send it all to Chad and he puts the videos together and then blends it before we “release it”. It is supposed to look like we did a zoom call and just all sang together, sort of like the Brady Bunch or something. That’s what the artists do that you see like that. It isn’t live.

So we practice and we watch and we share and we promote and we wait. I believe in the music, the sounds, the harmonies, the vocals, but most of all, the messages. I want the music to be successful. I think for all of us, that means that many will be blessed by it and enjoy it, be uplifted by it.

So help us out with that on all our platforms and websites and social media.

I’m writing another novel. It’s called COVID 19. I don’t think I’m writing it for publication, more just for me. It helps me journal all this. Who knows, maybe someday the grandkids will ask what this was like. I can let them read this.

Here is chapter 11 that I just wrote.

Chapter 11

What week is this?  4? 5? Who knows. They are talking about relaxing the stay at home orders after next week, to get businesses reopened and restart the economy.  People are saying this is all a conspiracy or something the media has cooked up or made worse than it is. Is that people’s paranoia? Denial? The direct reports we get from a local Dr. who is in NY volunteering is that people there are dying like crazy.  My niece in my hometown says it is insane there. Our community is slowing down the spread because we are staying home, most people are taking this seriously. But the numbers are still going up. I am against letting up. We can do this a while more to keep people safe.  One person ill or dead is too many. I know that is easy to say when my finances and those of my immediate family are not effected.  

The whole thing continues to be surreal.  Day to day, all is well in my little world.  I have a beautiful home, a loving, fun husband, things to do, good things to look forward to.  I do miss the grandkids. But I am actually interacting more with my immediate family that I did before.  Hell, I even called my Dad last night!

I was just sitting with Scott on the lower patio a few minutes ago, basking in the sunlight, philosophizing.  We didn’t do that all that often before. I asked him, besides seeing the grandkids in person and hugs, what are we really missing?  He reminded me that we are sitting in an unknown, not knowing what will happen in the future, when or if life will return to normal. I agreed, said it’s like sifting sand beneath us.  It seems ok here on the surface, but underneath it’s completely unstable, capable of change, insecure. Anyone close to us could get sick at any time. We could. And we may not recover.  Underneath that, for us, because of our faith, is the feeling that even if bad shit happens, we will not fall apart. It will be ok. It is ok with our souls. People who don’t have that faith must really be feeling it.

I’m still tired, lack energy, feel slightly depressed and unmotivated.  It isn’t too hard to try to change my thinking, to be grateful, to do something that brings me joy, facetime someone, write, go to happy places in the house or yard, sing, praise.  But it is hard to find motivation to exercise or clean. All I really want to do is eat and nap. I now officially weigh more than I have ever weighed in my entire life. And I don’t really care!  I was hot sitting in the sun and Scott asked why I didn’t go in the house and change into my shorts. I wanted to just strip down to my underwear and keep sitting right where i was. I told him the truth, first, the shorts were all the way in the house and I didn’t have the energy, and second, my shorts all have tight waistbands.  Not happening. So I drummed up the energy to move to the shade, on the deck. I am now writing and then will read for awhile. I’m trying to dredge up the energy to clean the kitchen. I had a burst of energy yesterday and deep cleaned three rooms of the house.

So I keep moving forward, one day at a time. When that is too hard, I take it hour by hour.  And look for something to be grateful for, something to do that brings joy. And I give myself permission to just chill.  Motivation will come again and I will capitalize on it when it does. When this all goes away, I will lose the weight. Or I won’t!  It’s ok!

Yesterday I saw on facebook (I spend an inordinate amount of time in that false virtual world), that Ann Frank and her family of 7 spent 761 days in a 400 square foot space.  If she did that, I can surely do this.