Chronicles of the Virus Day 50. Walking on Mother's Day.
This morning when I opened my eyes, the sky was swathed in luminous mist. It wasn't the grey, depressing fog of a low cloud, it was the mist rising after the sun began to hit the wet world. Today I go walking!
So, after breakfast, I put on my sneakers and went for my walk. I only went a half hour, because my legs were beginning to ask forgiveness from the punishment. Other were out, too, though just cyclists along our road. There were extremely few cars, like every Sunday since this began, so whenever I crossed with an on-coming cyclist, he would pedal out into the middle of the road while I walked along the edge. Social distancing. Except for one who floundered by me, less than a meter away. Cyclists like this one are the ones that, when I'm driving, make me want to morph into the Raging Avenger, and send them skydiving into the ditch. Please don't be like that cyclist.
Tomorrow, I'm returning, and over the coming weeks, I shall be extending my reach. I really do need to walk. When I put on my fanny pack to carry my phone and keys, I had to loosen the belt. Not good.
So, I came back full of energy, well before the ten o'clock limit for my age group (everybody under 70 and over 14). I showered, did some chores (the most pressing), and went out to pick some false jasmine. They didn't bloom well this year, probably because the bushes were pruned at the wrong time, perhaps because they started blooming too early. And then I went online.
Today's Mother's Day in Spain. I'd heard mention of it during the past week, but because my perception of time is off these days, I assumed it was still further along in time. This year, school children won't offer their mother handicrafts made in art class. Nor will the grown-up children give their mothers a plant or flowers.
I can't grab and hug my daugher, either. She's still in Santiago, though she'll probably be able to come home this month. My first Mother's Day as a mother, my husband gave me roses. I still have some crafts she gave me in primary school. My purpose in life was not to be a mother, but I love to be her mother.
Nor is it possible to visit the cemeteries, yet. So I can't take my mother a couple of roses to remember her. Mine died fifteen years ago, and the wound has healed well, which doesn't mean I never miss her, but I understand her time has come and gone.
But those whose mothers died this spring from this cursed illness, are probably raging against fate. So many of those who died still had years in front of them. A few more years of hugs on this day, of greeting grandchildren. A few very lucky ones, of greeting great-grandchildren. For some people this will be a very difficult holiday.
On another note, there are people who use masks, and people who don't. I don't. I know I'm most likely not infected. My husband is only in contact with the same co-workers, who are fine. I don't go out often, and when I do, I keep my distance, and wash my hands first thing when I get home. I will probably have to wear one when restrictions are withdrawn, and we can mix more with other people, though I will heartily hate every second of it. I've tried wearing one, and my glasses get fogged according to where I position it on my face. They are also difficult to breathe through, and can get quite hot. I remember some years ago, my father was admitted to the E.R. observation hall, awaiting a hospital room. The blood results still hadn't come back, so the doctors weren't sure if he had the flu or not. I was made to wear a mask to be by his side. After the first half hour, I took it off and dumped it. I'd gotten the flu shot, so I was going to be fine. In the end, he didn't have the flu that time.
Some people wear them cavalierly, covering only the mouth and leaving the nose out in the air. But I've never seen anyone wear one yet like the woman in this video. Even the guy she was talking with remarked upon the style of mask she had on. Please, try not to copy her. I swear, if Darwin had lived now, he wouldn't have had to go to the Galapagos to formulate his theory.
Life continues. Make sure it continues for you.
 |
| On my walk. |
Tomorrow, I'm returning, and over the coming weeks, I shall be extending my reach. I really do need to walk. When I put on my fanny pack to carry my phone and keys, I had to loosen the belt. Not good.
So, I came back full of energy, well before the ten o'clock limit for my age group (everybody under 70 and over 14). I showered, did some chores (the most pressing), and went out to pick some false jasmine. They didn't bloom well this year, probably because the bushes were pruned at the wrong time, perhaps because they started blooming too early. And then I went online.
Today's Mother's Day in Spain. I'd heard mention of it during the past week, but because my perception of time is off these days, I assumed it was still further along in time. This year, school children won't offer their mother handicrafts made in art class. Nor will the grown-up children give their mothers a plant or flowers.
I can't grab and hug my daugher, either. She's still in Santiago, though she'll probably be able to come home this month. My first Mother's Day as a mother, my husband gave me roses. I still have some crafts she gave me in primary school. My purpose in life was not to be a mother, but I love to be her mother.
Nor is it possible to visit the cemeteries, yet. So I can't take my mother a couple of roses to remember her. Mine died fifteen years ago, and the wound has healed well, which doesn't mean I never miss her, but I understand her time has come and gone.
But those whose mothers died this spring from this cursed illness, are probably raging against fate. So many of those who died still had years in front of them. A few more years of hugs on this day, of greeting grandchildren. A few very lucky ones, of greeting great-grandchildren. For some people this will be a very difficult holiday.
On another note, there are people who use masks, and people who don't. I don't. I know I'm most likely not infected. My husband is only in contact with the same co-workers, who are fine. I don't go out often, and when I do, I keep my distance, and wash my hands first thing when I get home. I will probably have to wear one when restrictions are withdrawn, and we can mix more with other people, though I will heartily hate every second of it. I've tried wearing one, and my glasses get fogged according to where I position it on my face. They are also difficult to breathe through, and can get quite hot. I remember some years ago, my father was admitted to the E.R. observation hall, awaiting a hospital room. The blood results still hadn't come back, so the doctors weren't sure if he had the flu or not. I was made to wear a mask to be by his side. After the first half hour, I took it off and dumped it. I'd gotten the flu shot, so I was going to be fine. In the end, he didn't have the flu that time.
Some people wear them cavalierly, covering only the mouth and leaving the nose out in the air. But I've never seen anyone wear one yet like the woman in this video. Even the guy she was talking with remarked upon the style of mask she had on. Please, try not to copy her. I swear, if Darwin had lived now, he wouldn't have had to go to the Galapagos to formulate his theory.
Life continues. Make sure it continues for you.
 |
| Two of these were born in January. |
Happy mother's day, Maria! Like you, I said farewell to my own and although I miss her, I accept that at some point, we all cease to be. I'm glad you got out and moved today! We have the same idiots in my village. Watched two guys without masks doing elbow bumps like they'd totally missed the last six weeks of reality... grrr.
ReplyDeleteYes, idiots like those can stay well away from me, too.
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