covid-19 diaries, 2

My new hobby has been tending to the yards.

There’s the front, which, despite being covered by pebbles, is still susceptible to weeds, and is also littered with fallen olives from a nearby tree.

My parents’ house is part of an HOA which periodically complains about the weeds. They usually write in, describing the complaint (the weeds) and also the guilt trip (“we know that being part of a community requires maintenance from all parties involved”). I bet that they’d write in now, if not for the current pandemic.

I take this time to pull out the weeds and pick up the olives. You can tell which olives have been on the ground for weeks, or even multiple seasons. Some olives look fresh. Others have been reduced to the size—and toughness—of their pebble neighbors that I wonder if they could actually just pass for pebbles.

The back yard, although it’s not visible to anyone, is much worse. It hasn’t been tended to since I left for New York months ago, and now looks like a scene out of a post-apocalyptic movie: empty, a lawn of overgrown weeds, dried leaves that are white and brittle and look like thin sheets of bone. Seemingly appropriate, again, given the pandemic.

I now realize I’ve spent a lot of time talking about yards, but this is my new hobby, and it’s surprisingly enjoyable. It’s meditative. All I can do is do a few repetitive, physical motions, listening to music or just the sound of the air, feeling the sun on my back.

Life has definitely changed, and weirdly, the pressure to deal with my own life has kind of dissipated. If the world is also uncertain, why can’t my life be as well? I’ve been stalling on taking care of my parents’ house, and I’m kind of okay with that now.

There’s a downside to the exact timing of this pause though: I have very little furniture. I have one dinner table, and my bed, and that’s pretty much it. The house is empty, and it’s just weird. Still, there are people far worse situations.

I’m starting to sound like my dad, “people in more lamentable situations than me” and all.

I fear most for the people who’s finances are now in limbo, along with their lives. Life just happens sometimes, and it’s always happening, pandemic, or not. People lose jobs. Businesses close. I just ask myself if I will be ready to do my part when the time presents itself, whether now, or whenever this time passes, if it does.

It feels like we’re all so connected. Everyone in the world is adjusting to this new reality, and everyone is adapting to it slightly differently.

I see a lot of physical trainers doing live workouts on various social media channels. I get a kick out of it, because everyone is trying to continue their “thing” in a slightly different way.

I adapt too. My brother’s family has started letting me know which live workouts they’re going to do, and I join them—virtually, by video—so we’re all working out together. My nephews are doing it too. Well, “doing it” as much as their little bodies can. Their squats are lousy, and I laugh at their form. But then we do stretches, and the trainer asks us to touch our toes, which they do with such ease they’re not even trying, and here I am barely reaching my ankles, and now it’s their turn to laugh at me.

I miss my nephews.

I think about the other things I miss during this time. I ask my friends the same thing.

Change is a chance to consider what’s really important to us. This is why I liked backpacking so much. You’re constantly moving around, constantly changing your environment, that it strips away everything about your routine. If you don’t miss it, leave it behind. If you do, go chase it.

Here’s what I miss:

• My dad, but I knew this already

• My nephews, but I also knew this already

• Physical contact, whether actual touch, or the energy, the buzz of other people around me

• Traveling, whether to explore the world, or to see something new

• Being social. I don’t just mean friends (which is obvious, I hope); I mean I actually miss the small-talk-social interactions that I take for granted on a day-to-day basis, those things you have to do to be a part of society, but now that they’re gone, I actually do miss them.

I’m grateful that I was already present and enjoying most of these things, but I swear to enjoy them even more, and to be even more involved in my local community once this is all over.

Speaking of things I miss: my mom, which, I also already knew.

I was just thinking the other day, my brother texts me, that if mom was still around she’d be going out all the time, lol 😂 “I’m fine!”

This makes me stop all that I’m doing, and just smile, for a long, long moment.

If there’s another thing I’m grateful for, is that my brother and I, in many ways—not all—but in many, are so similar, and see many things eye to eye.

I was just thinking that too, I text back.