The View from the Hermitage, Day 55

Random musings as week eight in the Hermitage draws to a close:

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. Last year, my mom was in the hospital, in what started off a very bad nine or ten months. This year, to see my mom would have involved making an appointment for a 30-minute spot on the sidewalk conversing at a social distance as she sat in her wheelchair on the patio. We decided to give it a pass.

Mother's Day falling on May 10 has an unhappy history on my dad's side of the family. His mother's birthday was May 10 and, as can be seen this year, May 10 is occasionally Mother's Day. In the early 1960s, my grandmother's birthday was on Mother's Day which that year happened to be the day on which her husband suffered a fatal heart attack. Her birthday and Mother's Day were never the same for her after that, especially when they coincided.


I wrapped two birthday gifts for younger son today. His birthday was over a month ago. The husband's birthday was four days after younger son's. Celebrations are on hold during the realm of the novel coronavirus. Older son, whose birthday is in November, has suggested that we wait until the week between Christmas and New Year's, assuming we can at least be together by then, have a blow-out week-long celebration of everything and everybody. We might as well throw Mother's Day and Father's Day in there, too. The plan sounds good in theory; I just hope it can hold up in practice.

My mom says that the memory care (or Alzheimer's) floor at her senior living facility has had what seems like a lot of deaths recently. At least it seems that there have been more photos posted on the "in memory" bulletin board in the lobby than there usually are. I asked whether she knew if they were doing testing to determine if covid-19 might have contributed to the deaths. She didn't know for sure but did not think they were doing any testing. She said that a new resident moved in this week, something that had been on hold at one point. Mom, always the optimist, figures the facility has been losing money and needs more residents to make up the difference.

The View from the Hermitage, Day 47

I watched most of the governor's press conference this afternoon. I missed the meat but made it in time for the side dishes, that is, the press questions. It was nice to see a positive relationship between press and politician. Reasonable questions followed by reasonable answers. The governor deferred to the specialized talking heads as needed. There were no insults, nor were there any raised voices except from the reporters who were apparently seated in the back row.

The state's numbers could be better; they are flattening but not yet headed down. The governor said he will announce on Monday whether his executive order that certain businesses could reopen on Friday would be altered. He also said he hoped that schools could be back in session in late August or early September, referring to K-12 schools, not colleges and universities. The husband is still predicting his university will open online; I go back and forth on agreeing with him or not.

Some businesses are still in operation. The window people are still coming this Wednesday to replace most of the main floor windows as well as those in the master bedroom and around our foyer. I've promised older son I'll stay in the basement, thereby not getting close to anyone. Luckily, there is a refrigerator down there. I think all that is in it now is beer, but hey, things could be worse. I'm not sure why, but we decided to make 2020 the year of multiple home projects. We sneaked the interior repainting of everything except the basement in before the pandemic started. I hate to admit it, but it was the first interior repainting since we had the house built in 1985. We were supposed to have the hardwood floors on the same floors sanded and refinished, but that's on hold for now. And now, the windows.

The Vice He Who Shall Not Be Named claims that the virus troubles will be largely over by Memorial Day which is but three weeks from this coming Monday. He must have blinders on, and I'd bet they are rose-colored. He Who Shall Not Be Named's son-in-law says things will be well on their was back to normal in June and will be "rocking" in July. What planet are these people from? I honestly do not think we will ever get back to what we used to call normal. Even with a vaccine and treatment for this coronavirus, we now know that a new virus can arise at almost any time. Keep that in the back of your mind. Everything we take (or took) for granted can be gone or greatly altered in a very short time.

I worry that I am getting numb to too much of this. The anger I feel at He Who Shall Not Be Named does not feel as extreme as it did several weeks ago. Nothing he has said or done lately surprises me. A lot of the time, I just shake my head and turn away. I fight getting complacent, but complacency is often the winner these days. Is it helplessness that is weakening my responses? I do feel some helplessness in locking myself away from things I might do to help, such as donating blood. Am I superstitious in being very afraid that given all the other life shit of the last twelve months of my life I will find the virus if it doesn't find me first? Pneumonia ten months ago was scary enough.

And the gears in my brain continue to turn in mysterious ways. I am hoping the weekend might provide perspective, which may be a vain hope in that one day now is very much like any other day.