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A friend gave me a 5-year mom’s journal five years ago. I have kept up with it because you can only write a sentence or two a day. It’s a gem I will hold onto if only as a reminder that some things change, and some things do not.

I took down the breakfast cup I bought in an antique store in San Francisco many moons ago. It’s precious and my fear that it will break keeps it safeguarded in back of the cabinet. I needed to risk its preciousness. Unlike a mug, you can’t walk around with it. Unlike a tumbler, you can knock it over. So this breakfast cup invites me to sit in one place, still, and take studied sips of the tea I don’t even know I’m drinking when using another vessel.

I cut the first hydrangea blooms and brought them in to put in my Aalto vase. I rarely use the vase because I rarely cut flowers from my garden to enjoy. When I first moved into the 100 Men Hall, I had noticed the old growth hydrangeas in the back garden, and I thought I will take cuttings and put them on my kitchen table. And I never did until this pandemic allowed me to do the one thing I have been yearning to do and that is garden.

So the pandemic has offered me time to write in my 5-year mom journal, use my precious breakfast cup, garden and enjoy fresh cut flowers in a vase rarely used. While this pandemic has been horrendous for many people – losing loved ones, fighting on the front lines, enormous revenue loss – it has offered some of us an escape from a life that was not serving us. I was not really living. I was on a conveyor belt to my grave.

The real question is how to do we retain what we’ve gained when the pandemic is over?

This entry was posted on Saturday, April 25th, 2020 at 10:35 am and is filed under Main. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.