The Before (Pre-Coronavirus Here)

Listening to jazz is a new thing for me. I have finally realized that it is an act in itself, a testimony to art and poetry in musical form. Sit, listen, breathe. Flow into the moods of the music. It is not in my nature to sit and breathe and flow, but I am learning, note by note. It comes to me in flashes of comprehension, this understanding. I see, I breathe, I fall in love. 

I could clearly see, last night, listening to the music, that our society is on the brink of a cataclysm. Yesterday was the before, today is the beginning, tomorrow is unsure. Everything will change, as it has for anyone who has ever suffered a natural catastrophe or war. Our country has been so long without a nationwide sorrow, that we have forgotten, unless we were in New York in 2001, what it means to work together to figure this out. Can you feel the tide of it? Are you doing all you can to stay the disaster?

Italy is trying to warn us. We are not listening. I am home with my family, which is a source of great joy, tinged with apprehension. I went to work yesterday, the kids went to school, but by the time we all came home, every single activity had been put on hold for the next week, at least. 

I stopped by the store on the way home. People were shopping for the oddest things. A Chinese man was encouraging a group of women to buy the 50lb bags of rice; "there will be none tomorrow,"  (this seemed like a wise choice to me, rice, beans, salt). Many, many people were pushing around carts filled with cleaning products, but looking as though they should be shopping for something more important, they just did not know what. There were buckets of complaints about the lack of any "bath tissue" to be found. (That is what the sign in the aisle selling t.p. still calls it in my neighborhood grocery store.) 

I want my children to be careful. I want them to be responsible citizens and help CONTAIN THIS. I also want them to have hope and faith and live in joy and gratitude. There will be an "After". May it come at a price with not too many regrets. Sing a glad song. And stay home.