Nowhere to Be But at Home with You
BY HILARY GRIFFITH
Originally published in Vol. 6, Issue 2: Home & Garden
It’s hard to comprehend the fact that time is still moving, and life is still happening even in the midst of a pandemic, as if it should be one or the other. People are dying — still, babies are being born, birds are chirping in the morning, mosquitos are biting, people are laughing, people are crying, people are listening, people are fighting, people are loving, cars are using gas, mail is being delivered, art is being created, mold is growing, strawberry jam is being made, my grandmother’s mind is fading, and my son is learning to count. There are days when I spiral into a cloud of doom and hopelessness, when it seems like only terrible things keep happening, none of which I can control. But there are also days when I can see the light and let it soak in. Days when I get a call from an old friend and we lament together and spill everything out. Days when my son gently pulls my face to his. Days when I say ‘I love you’ more than I worry.
Despite everything, I have felt very fortunate through it all, which is something I’m still processing, and figuring out how to give back. I especially feel grateful to have the opportunity to document these six little moments from quarantine with my son. Most days, he begs to be outside, he wants to go, he wants to see people. It feels wrong to pull him from the community to hole up at home. Most days, I feel like a failure. Honestly, I’ve never understood the phrase “it takes a village” more than I do now — but here we are, doing the best we can, facetiming loved ones and picking dandelions to keep in a jar.
Lest you start feeling like you’ve failed, wondering why this is so hard, let me remind you that it is hard — but, you are doing a good job.
You are doing a good job. Keep going. We are in the midst of a pandemic and learning new ways of being, trying to cope while isolated, and still trying to be the best we can be. Watching a global crisis spill out before our very eyes and feeling like we’re out of control. You are doing a good job. I’ve never been good at adjusting to change, but recently I’ve realized that resisting the change takes more energy than learning to adapt, learning how to be still and listen, learning how to grow. Once I started allowing myself room for error, I found pockets of peace. I’m slowly figuring out how to let every feeling take space, name it, let it pass through me, and then keep moving forward.
You are doing a good job and you are not alone.
HILARY GRIFFITH is a freelance illustrator, designer, storyteller, artist and mama. After a few years of residing in Nashville, she and her family recently moved back to Jackson, her hometown. In the in-betweens, she just tries to take time to remember and appreciate the good things.