Day 158

When I picked up my phone after dinner, I saw that I had missed 44 text messages on the Chickies thread. In the time it took me to sit down and eat grilled veggies over rice for dinner, I missed a lengthy discussion about my mom’s Instagram page, where she shares images of her art (and the occasional shot of me and Sarah painting our toenails, apparently.)

Not long before dinner, I went for a walk and talked with Sarah the entire time (except for the brief few minutes when I accidentally hung up on her to chat with a friend I ran into. Whoops.). We talked about the pandemic. Almost exclusively. It’s difficult to talk about the details of life that have always defined our connection as sisters and not focus on the current state of our lives, homes, families, choices, behaviors. Everything is defined by our personal interpretations of what we can and should and want to do to stay safe, and healthy, and sane.

School, meals, marriage, vacation, career, education, birthdays, politics, middle age. These are just a few topics we pushed around, and every single one within the context of where we are now: Living. Amidst. A. Pandemic.

We talked about how natural it has become to say: “Don’t forget your mask” when someone leaves the house. For a driving lesson. Or a bike ride. A walk. A trip to the bank.

We talked about how tired we are, how anxious we feel, how our kids make their own breakfasts and lunches most of the time, what we are reading, why we wish we had more money, what’s for dinner, how much we love our AirPods, how long it will take Sarah to drive out to Michigan later this week to bring her son his college dorm furnishings and to wish him a happy 18th birthday.

We talked about my birthday. One day before that 18 year old, who reminds me every single year that I am 30 years and one day older than he is. As if I could ever forget this boy who brought a grieving family back together and became the first grandchild of nine born in just six years. We are lucky.

I put in my birthday dessert order with my daughter-bakers: vanilla cupcakes with raspberry buttercream frosting. We will have Thai takeout for dinner, the tradition for the years when we are not camping on my birthday. I’m looking forward to shoo shee curry, but I miss the campsite, campfires, playing cards at a picnic table. Living for several days entirely outside. We are not leaving our homestead except for food or work-related outings. And so, no camping for us this summer. I told my 11-year-old that next year we will have THE BEST summer. I hope I can come through on that promise.

But how can I promise anything, really. Today, the total worldwide cases of Covid-19 stands at more than 22 million. Nearly 5.5. million in the U.S. Millions. We are now counting in the millions.

It seems impossible. I try to do what I can to keep things normal and not entirely focused on the truth that normal isn’t really possible at all. And so, tonight, when my 11-year-old wanted to go for a run and try to beat her time for the mile, I finished prepping dinner and said, “Let’s go. I’ll take you.”

She beat her record. Dinner was delicious. I’m caught up on Chickies.

Stay safe, everyone.