The news is telling us that the number of new cases in our state has leveled off. The peak so far has been 1,529, reported five days ago. This should be good news, but we know that in rural areas like ours, people aren’t being tested. In fact, I even read that our community hospital has only 70 total tests, so they’ve had to be very judicious in the use of them.
The number of cases is higher than we know, and what’s more, just like new slang and fashion trends, the peak the bigger cities have seen will take its sweet time making it out here to us. I don’t think we’ll be going out again anytime soon.
I’m not writing these entries to entertain or inform anyone who might be following them now. That ship has sailed, and I won’t be sharing anything you guys don’t already know. I’m writing for posterity now, because at some poin,t my child or grandchild will have to write a history report on what’s going on. It’s crazy to think that by then they’ll know the outcome. They’ll probably know more about how the virus came to be, and the’ll definitely know what we did right and wrong in regards to recovering from the pandemic.
For now, we barely know what day it is most of the time. Yesterday was Easter though, and we still made that special. The Easter Bunny came, and the kids had their baskets and did their egg hunts, inside and in the yard. I couldn’t be more proud of the three of them. They were kind to each other, sharing eggs, sharing candy, the girls always making sure Frank had enough since he’s so little. We sang praise songs in the afternoon while I made the traditional Easter lunch, ham with mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and macaroni. Lizzy and Frank agreed that the best part of the meal was the root beer in their cups.
A normal Easter for us would have been better, and worse. We’d have started with the Easter baskets and egg hunts, then we’d have had the whole family over for the meal. The kids would have loved to see their grandparents, and they would have had their cousins to play with. We would have had a fancy salad, sweet potatoes, and a whole buffet of desserts. There would have been wine, and adult conversation, and we might have all played a card game.
But there would have been stress in the crisis cleaning that always needs done before we host an event. And chaos when there weren’t quite enough chairs for everyone. I’d have felt guilty for not being a good enough hostess, not knowing where everyone is from one moment to the next. I’d have missed a lot of great moments with my kids. We probably wouldn’t have had time to dye Easter eggs, or to roast marshmallows and make s’mores in the afternoon. Over all it was a beautiful, memorable day.
I don’t miss the craziness, but I do miss each of our relatives individually. It would be great if, in some stage of the country’s recovery, it would be okay to have small groups over and play games, but still no large events. I guess it would also be great if I could just chill out about that sort of thing.
Emmy’s in first grade, and I was able to print out her work packets from the school’s website. They’re making life easy for us, providing structure and normalcy for the kids without expecting too much from us. She’s supposed to read for fifteen minutes per school day, and choose two activities from a ‘choice board’ to complete. They include things like practicing tying shoes, counting change, turning off the lights and reading by flashlight, and building a tower with blocks. There are worksheets too, but they’re not required and there’s no official process for turning them in. We’re just supposed to color in the choice board squares she completes and then send a picture to her teacher at the end of the weak. Her teacher has been sending videos of her reading stories for the kids.
Lizzy doesn’t have an official curriculum, but we mostly practice her letters, naming and writing them. I don’t think school will resume this year. Missouri has officially announced that school is out for the year, but Illinois hasn’t yet. I won’t be sending my kids back either way. It isn’t worth the risk until the world knows more about the virus, and I’m at home anyway, so we’ll keep on doing what we do.
I like staying home. I like having Justin and the kids here. I’d like the chance to visit a few people, and I’d like to plan a vacation for later this year, but over all this hasn’t been bad for us. My heart breaks for the people who work in hospitals, from doctors and nurses to lab techs and cleaning crews. They’re risking their health, and the health of everyone they live with, to keep the world from completely collapsing. If I didn’t have a family, I’d still work in a healthcare related job, and I’d be essential right now. I feel guilty that I’m not.
Justin has a friend who’s a nurse, and he’s moved temporarily from his home with his wife and children to a house he can live in alone, so he’s not putting the people he loves at risk. All over the country, people are missing out on/risking the health of their families to be their for ours. It’s really humbling.
I’m so sad for the grocery store employees, who risk being infected every day so we can all continue to eat. Most of them aren’t making any extra money to keep working right now. They’re dealing with clusters of bored shoppers who come in for lack of anything better to do. And they’re dealing with rude shoppers who blame them for not having toilet paper and disinfecting wipes. People are quitting those jobs left and right, which places an even heavier burden on the ones who stay.
Truck drivers, fast food employees, sanitation workers, mail carriers, and people at utility companies come to mind too. I appreciate them so much, and I’m not sure what, if anything, I can do to express that. I’m not out here doing my own essential thing. I’m just chilling out with my family, waiting for it all to be over. It’s not much, but it’s certainly better than going out, visiting friends’ houses and shopping out of boredom. At least I’m not making things worse for anyone.
We’ve found mushrooms in the front yard and have eaten two batches, one with lunch today and one with dinner last week. The kids all love them, and that’s another way we’ve been blessed. We have the mushrooms, and the task of finding them, to fill the time we once spent building the chicken run. Once mushroom season is over, we’ll be feeding hummingbirds and picking black raspberries. I can’t imagine a better home than the one we’re stuck in.