Monday, June 22, 2020

The Pandemic Met the Protests & Time Almost Lost Its Meaning

My daughter in Rome, GA, USA.

As always, I am living on the edge of things. I entered a fourth Vocal challenge but did not make a recording. The contest has concluded, but a link to my piece is here: View from the Crossroads.

It centers on the idea of what's outside my window and explores my feelings about moving on from my current home at the same time that my grandfather will be moving in across the street from my current apartment.

As though on cue, my uncle reached out to me just after I finished the essay. He'd been assisting my grandfather with preparations for the move and had come to visit my mother, whose dementia accelerated quickly during isolation. Her brother was seeking a way to help, yet my father remains the central figure in her care. Helping him navigate his feelings about this has been one of the most rewarding parts of the pandemic for me--bringing beauty, clarity and respect to the parallel rolls we've played, and now discuss, from my side of the small back porch I share with my neighbors, a peace lily and a strawberry plant. 

Since then, I've also has the great pleasure of joining in Sera Beak's virtual Soul Sanctuary retreat space as it opened briefly and then closed just as George Floyd declared he couldn't breathe. My daughter saw the video before I did, and she has joined me in demonstrating solidarity with Black Lives Matter, in contacting officials seeking change and in standing in line to cast my vote in the primary elections. She has also turned 12, happily cut off her hair, embraced her roller skates and finally learned to tie her own shoes.