Pandemic Ponderings by Ann Frawley Fiegen
In these unprecedented times, we all are experiencing unprecedented emotions. With little or no warning, we soar to the heights and sink to the depths so rapidly that there isn’t time to consider options. In my garden this morning, the sun was out, the sky blue, early Spring flowers were in bloom. With trees budding and birds chirping, the neighbor’s cat purred like a buzz saw rubbing against my ankle. Life was good. I was happy.
Moments later, back in the house, I cried the ugliest of cries because I had no flour to bake a pie.
Makes no sense, but nothing does. Our foundations have been shaken, our securities shattered, and our lives put on an interminable hold by an invisible killer that defies obliteration. Like a bad dream, each day begins and ends in the same place. It is bleak. It is grim. It is terrifying. It is gut wrenchingly sad.
And yet, there is something else going on. There are times when my street evokes the image of a Norman Rockwell painting. There are kids playing outside, people going on walks, neighbors waving to one another from their front porches, spring bulbs and flowering bushes in bloom. Feels like everything has slowed down to a manageable pace, a pace that feels like another, simpler time.
Now that we the polluters are on shut down, the global smog has lifted. Mother Earth, in her infinite capacity to forgive, is once again sharing her beauty with us unobstructed. Her majestical mountains and the incomparable blueness of her skies are again on display, healing our tired eyes and tattered souls.
I find myself looking at the people to whom I say thank you. Our eyes connect, and my thank yous are not cursory. Thank you for being there...to pack up my groceries, to fill my prescriptions, to deliver my mail, to pick up my trash, to serve and protect, to be the first to respond...Thank you.
We have all learned from this and hopefully will emerge kinder, less entitled, more grateful.
To ensure that this will happen for me, I am keeping an ever expanding list of promises to myself in case for a moment I forget any of the lessons this new normal has taught me.
I promise:
1) To never take hugs for granted.
2) To remember the unparalleled quality of the friendships that I enjoy.
3) To treasure each moment I spend with those I love.
4) To never ignore sunsets.
5) To know that at our core we are survivors.
6) To recognize the enormity of the gift of having my family close at hand.
7) To remember that even a bad cat is a good companion in isolation.
8) To remember I can live without Starbucks.
9) To remember that a goodnight text from a little girl can make the entire day worthwhile.
While I wish I had learned them sooner, I am grateful for having learned these lessons now.
You know that thing they say about old dogs? Not true, of dogs or old ladies.