Almost a month ago today, on the evening of Thursday, March 12, I had ONE thing on my mind.
I hadn’t been home too long from my evening speaking gig, and I’m lying on the couch watching Kelly Clarkson and John Legend on The Voice, when at 9:30 P.M. my husband walks through the front door and announces: “The grocery store is completely out of…TOILET PAPER.”
I do a mental checklist of how many rolls of TP we have on hand. Like 4 or 5. For some reason, we had forgotten to buy toilet paper lately.
I feel an immediate panic!!!
Within seconds I‘m on my laptop scrolling on Amazon for Scott Toilet paper, for any toilet paper. Out of stock. Out of stock. Out of stock.
Suddenly I find a pack of 40 rolls from a third party seller. They’re $10 more, but I don’t care. I pop them in my cart, process payment, and breathe a sign of relief.
So here we are—four weeks and one day later. We’ve got enough toilet paper—for now—but far greater changes and worries have emerged.
Everyone of us is feeling the strain and isolation of this virus.
But there’s also been a silver lining for some. I always wanted to go back to college, and now that our Julia, who’s a junior, is telecommuting to Kalamazoo College, I’m getting to eavesdrop on her classes via Zoom–Spanish, Psych and Choir–yep, I get to hear her sing.
AND Julia turned 21 on April 6, so, of course, a virtual birthday party on Zoom was in order, with homemade cosmos in chilled martini glasses to toast the birthday girl. For some reason we sang the slooooowest version of Happy Birthday.
Not exactly how she envisioned turning 21, I’m sure.
We are the lucky ones.
Today, Mayor Lightfoot announced that this “shelter in place” could go on through May. Maybe longer. Stay home is the mantra of the day.
But have you also been reading and seeing the other stories?
In Chicago, Rex Hupkee has enlisted thousands of people to write letters to those seniors who are on lockdown in their communities.
And my fav is the math teacher who walked across the street with his whiteboard and markers in tow, stood on the porch of one of his twelve-year-old math students, and through the closed screen door, guided her through the problems she was struggling with.
We need each other right now. Share your stories. They are the great connectors.