Social Distance

Social distance.

Two words that have changed my world.

In the midst of global pandemic as a result of the spread of COVID-19, aka the coronavirus, I haven't written anything in a month.  So much has happened.  So much has changes.  It's hard, still, to get my head around it.  As a result, it felt like anything I might write would be trivial, trite, and meaningless.

People around the world, people in the Unites States, and people in Nashville, are dying every day.  By the thousands.  And it's going to get worse before it gets better.  So, I've struggled how to put into words what I'm feeling.

Helplessness.  Sadness.  Fear.  Anxiety.  Anger.  Disbelief.  Suspicious.

All of us, I think, are filled with a maelstrom of emotions.  Every day and every night.

What can we do to help stop the spread of COVID-19?  What can I do?

Social distance.

As a direct result of the need to maintain social distance - at least 6 feet from other not in your family unit - everything has changed on a micro and macro level.

• Jude, the boys, and I haven't seen her parents in weeks.
• St. Patrick has closed, as have all churches.
• The boys school - University School of Nashville - has closed, likely for the rest of the school year, as have all area schools.  JP and Joe are engaged in remote learning, whatever the hell that means.
• The mayor (Nashville) and governor (Tennessee) have issued "stay at home" orders.
• Most coffee shops and restaurants are closed, although some remain open for takeout coffee and food.
• All colleges and universities have closed for the semester.
• All non-essential businesses are closed.  I sent almost everyone home from my office almost three weeks ago.  
• Most people I know are working from home.  In our house, Jude is working at the dining room table, I'm working in my office upstairs, and JP is doing his school work at a desk we set up for him in his room.  Joe floats from room to room (no surprise there).
• There are not live sports.  None.  No March Madness.  No Master's.  No baseball season.  No NBA end of regular season and playoffs.  Nothing.
• The boys' spring sports seasons have been delayed and likely will be canceled.  It's the first time in seven years I haven't had baseball to coach and it's killing me.
• The national - the worldwide - economy has tanked.  A recession is here.
• The sudden rise in unemployment numbers in the Unites States is unprecedented. 
• No play dates, no family gatherings, no sleepovers.  
• There's a shortage of toilet paper.  
• People are hoarding food.  I bought a chest freezer and am stocking it full of meat.

What does it all mean?  I'm trying to figure that out, each and every day.  It's too big to process or to write about with a sense of perspective.  For me, anyway.

I think what I'm going to do, though, is break it down into smaller pieces and write about those pieces.  That's helped me in the past, I think, as I puzzle over the existential questions of life and death.  

And, I hope, maybe I can preserve a record of how I feel during these strange days, something I can read someday and something JP and Joe can read someday, too.  

Stay safe and be well, everyone.