I’ll miss being home so much. I love being home. I love that I don’t have to make excuses to not go to big parties, which I don’t enjoy. I’ll miss religious services from my couch, where I can practice my Hebrew without feeling less than cause it’s not so good.
My biggest anxieties about things opening back up is that things are opening …
I’ll miss being home so much. I love being home. I love that I don’t have to make excuses to not go to big parties, which I don’t enjoy. I’ll miss religious services from my couch, where I can practice my Hebrew without feeling less than cause it’s not so good.
My biggest anxieties about things opening back up is that things are opening back up. And it doesn’t feel safe. I read about a woman in Nashville who went into a store with a mask on and was called a pussy. I worry that we are not safe. I wonder, sometimes, in my darkest moments, if I will ever feel safe again.
I’ve learned that I am more afraid of dying alone than I am of dying. And that the thought of one of my kids being really sick without me able to be with them, makes me sob like I have never sobbed. I’ve learned that every death matters to me. Every single one. I’ve learned my husband is able to compartmentalize in a way that makes me not like him sometimes. And other times I’m very jealous.
I’ve learned the country I live in … I don’t know that I have the words that can express the sadness …. I’m seeing what I have seen my whole life, only so much bigger, through the lens of this president who, in my view, has no humanity. I want to show up louder, though always with love.
My favorite moment is when my husband and I were sitting in our yard. Our neighbor who lives on our right came out and pulled up her chair – at least 6 feet from ours. A few minutes later, I saw my other neighbor. A woman in her 80’s, who came out with her chair. She said she was not dressed but saw us through her window and wanted to join us. She apologized that her hair was a mess. And we sat. and we chatted about birds and life and it didn’t last long, but it was a moment that is sealed on my heart. She was worried about her hair, and she didn’t want to miss the chance to sit with us. I will never forget the smile on her face when she joined us.
thanks for asking. while not my best writing, capturing this opened my heart a bit
Oh Vicki, this whole thing makes me want to be your neighbor. It's so wise and honest and wholehearted. I love this: "She was worried about her hair, and she didn’t want to miss the chance to sit with us. I will never forget the smile on her face when she joined us." Thanks for being that woman for me, sitting down and writing even though you weren't sure your words were perfect.
I’ll miss being home so much. I love being home. I love that I don’t have to make excuses to not go to big parties, which I don’t enjoy. I’ll miss religious services from my couch, where I can practice my Hebrew without feeling less than cause it’s not so good.
My biggest anxieties about things opening back up is that things are opening back up. And it doesn’t feel safe. I read about a woman in Nashville who went into a store with a mask on and was called a pussy. I worry that we are not safe. I wonder, sometimes, in my darkest moments, if I will ever feel safe again.
I’ve learned that I am more afraid of dying alone than I am of dying. And that the thought of one of my kids being really sick without me able to be with them, makes me sob like I have never sobbed. I’ve learned that every death matters to me. Every single one. I’ve learned my husband is able to compartmentalize in a way that makes me not like him sometimes. And other times I’m very jealous.
I’ve learned the country I live in … I don’t know that I have the words that can express the sadness …. I’m seeing what I have seen my whole life, only so much bigger, through the lens of this president who, in my view, has no humanity. I want to show up louder, though always with love.
My favorite moment is when my husband and I were sitting in our yard. Our neighbor who lives on our right came out and pulled up her chair – at least 6 feet from ours. A few minutes later, I saw my other neighbor. A woman in her 80’s, who came out with her chair. She said she was not dressed but saw us through her window and wanted to join us. She apologized that her hair was a mess. And we sat. and we chatted about birds and life and it didn’t last long, but it was a moment that is sealed on my heart. She was worried about her hair, and she didn’t want to miss the chance to sit with us. I will never forget the smile on her face when she joined us.
thanks for asking. while not my best writing, capturing this opened my heart a bit
Oh Vicki, this whole thing makes me want to be your neighbor. It's so wise and honest and wholehearted. I love this: "She was worried about her hair, and she didn’t want to miss the chance to sit with us. I will never forget the smile on her face when she joined us." Thanks for being that woman for me, sitting down and writing even though you weren't sure your words were perfect.