SOL 30/31 & #52Stories 13/52: Hugging in the time of COVID-19

Returning for year nine of writing daily in March with my Slice of Life writer friends! Check out Two Writing Teachers for more slices of life occurring every day in March. 

I gathered our writing group on Sunday for a Zoom gathering. Our prompt was the poem “Where Grass is Pressed” by Helen Frost. After reading the poem, I asked: How have you found places where grass is pressed, places where you can rest and nestle into love in the time of COVID-19?  I muted everyone and we began our twenty minutes of sacred writing time. After writing, we shared our words, our fears, our joys, our tears, and our laughter. It was not easy to leave our gathering, but writing and sharing words was balm for a Sunday morning. 

Writing in the time of Covid-19 – Quick Write

 MI Ward Writing Group, March 29, 2020 

When I left Sara’s home on the morning of March 10^th, I was unaware that it would be the last time I would be in her home during March. I arrived shortly after 10, ready to babysit the boys. But Sara, a physician assistant, was on the phone with her employer who decided that she should not come to work because she had a cough. No fever, but a cough. So I stayed just long enough to read the books from the book bag to Jack and headed for home.  I’m not even sure that I hugged everyone goodbye, but I probably did. Because I’m a hugger!

The next time I saw Sara was thirteen days later, on Monday, March 23^rd,when she delivered our groceries and brought the lawnmower. She stood on the brick wall outside the kitchen window and we chatted while I unloaded groceries and Lance mowed our two small patches of lawn.

Far too soon, it was time to load the lawnmower back into their truck. As she pulled away, I hugged myself, demonstrating the hug I’d deliver if we could be together without social distancing.

On Saturday, March 28^th, we left the Prius at the Park and Ride so Sara can take advantage of a more efficient vehicle while she commutes to a facility farther from their home. (Only last night they learned that the clinic they were supposed to be consolidating with flooded this weekend. So that probably means one more week in their local clinic.)

Back to the car exchange . . . Our plan of action was to leave the car at the Park and Ride because it would be very hard for the grand boys (ages 3 and almost 1) to pull into Grandma and Grandpa’s driveway and not be able to come in. Lance and I were supposed to leave once we parked the car, but we parked across the lot and watched the car. After all, the keys to the car were in the glove box! My son-in-law insisted that no one would want my husband’s twelve year old Prius.

While we kept watch, I hatched a brilliant idea! I called Sara, ensured that we weren’t on speaker, and shared my plan. Once the boys and Will pulled away, we pulled the Rav 4 beside the Prius, rolled down our windows, and had a lovely conversation, at least six feet apart. As we concluded, I hugged myself fiercely so that my daughter, battling this pandemic from the medical front, would know how very much she is loved.