I’ve been hiding out from the world now for 55 days. In the beginning, there was adrenaline coursing through my veins, and I made lists of projects and hopeful homeschool schedules and age-appropriate chore lists written in marker on index cards. Like a lot of us, I heaped pressure on myself and everyone around me to do better and become something better while we had so much unbroken time. We aren’t in the beginning anymore, are we?
Read MoreIt’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.
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