I'm beginning to feel a bit more hopeful about the future, which is symbolized by this image called Dawn. The symmetry and perfection of the graphic represents a feeling of cohesion and capability, something we have all lost during the past year. I've been able to complete some projects this week that were impossible to finish because I was distracted and unable to concentrate. A lot of this has happened because I was finally able to find an appointment for a vaccine, which is scheduled for tomorrow at 6:39pm. At the same time that I feel empowered by this, I am also disappointed that this pandemic has turned just about everything into a chore. It will be some time before we are once again able to enjoy our spontaneity together.
March 31, 2021
How has the coronavirus affected my closest relationships? I can't even begin to answer this fully. I miss my mother, desperately. She is alive and well and only two hours but a world away. I miss her voice, I miss the gentle way she brushes my daughter's hair. Their banter back and forth heard through the wall, two melodic voices in different registers, a tinkling brook of dialogue. I miss taking walks with her, riding the train on a Saturday morning to visit her, the way she always makes sure to have good coffee in the house when I visit. Her shabby apartment where she's lived for twenty years, the wiggly kitchen table, the knick knacks, the too-warm bathroom and the picture window above the kitchen sink. Her silly little Honda Fit that rattles around back roads of Vermont when she drives to swimming holes and places to walk. How she will talk to anyone kindly, any person in any context for any reason. How she never cuts corners, almost to a maddening degree, never does a shitty job with anything, never treats anyone as an afterthought. How she writes the best letters and cards and makes the best Valentines. How she believes in things. How she loves lavender and birdsong. How she misses the sea.
March 10, 2021