March Away

It’s the last day of March, 2020 and it’s hard to believe what’s happened since the first day, when we celebrated our friend Fran’s Leap Year birthday in Bucks County and watched the unfolding news about a mystery virus in Italy. My flight home from a late February trip was canceled so I was dealing with my flight insurance refund. United was more than gracious, sorry for my inconvenience and even deposited 10,000 miles into my account for the disruption.

During the first week of March, I saw a wonderful play, went to an art opening, occasionally saw someone wearing a face mask and then on March 12 Whole Foods was crammed with people and overflowing food carts.

All of a sudden, no one was hugging or shaking hands. Doomsday cartoons and memes appeared. New York City’s St. Patrick’s Day parade and the March Madness games were cancelled. Most NJ stores and all gyms were ordered to close. Churches closed. But still it didn’t seem all that serious. Until people were told they had to work from home. Wall Street tumbled. When the hospitals started to plead for help it finally dawned on us all that we were in the midst of a crisis we could never have prepared for.

Daffodils and cherry trees have started to pop. Here in Red Bank we are permitted to go outside so I roam around town to keep the joints and bones moving and I found a teeny park, adjacent to the high school running field. So until we’re restricted entirely I now can do my walk around the track!

I put on my make up and try not to wear the same thing every day. I’m reading articles about how to “experience” this experience, or convert your living room into a home gym, using bags of flour for kettle bells. Our governor deems liquor stores essential, which is a blessing.

People say we should try to be productive with this unexpected gift of time. The first week I was like a cat, couldn’t concentrate and went from the kitchen to the TV to my phone to my laptop to the kitchen to the TV and repeat and repeat. In between rubbernecking the TV, listening to NPR, keeping up with the memes, jokes and other Corona-related stuff that people send constantly, I don’t know how I ever had time to do anything else. There’s SO MUCH to get through.

I try to do one big-ish thing every day and then one small thing (like the laundry). I’ve cleaned all the kitchen cabinets, run everything through the dishwasher, and today the small task is cleaning the fridge. The big-ish one is taking pictures of my tax documents for my accountant. And it’s wonderful to connect with friends on the phone and during my walk.

Our family is totally compliant with the new rules and we’re not visiting. We miss each other, though, and had a Zoom cocktail hour this week for Sarah’s birthday — it was silly and fun. Everyone is ok, sheltering and snacking in space.

Governor Andrew Cuomo conducts daily televised press conferences; they are a master class in communication and he is doing a magnificent job. We arrange our day around them.

Everyone is asking how bad things are going to get and when we’ll get back to “normal.” What were the economic crises of the past? What could they tell us about what to expect? Bail out the banks to keep the economy growing. Depression, recession, rough water ahead. We have nothing to compare it to.

It’s the first time since I was 6 years old that I have nowhere to go and nothing to do except think about our world, our selfless doctors and nurses, our worried and sudden new way of life.