Coffeid 20 (One stronger than Covid 19)
This is a story written by our long-time family friend, Sue, who is a gravitational center of friendship for our neighborhood. A retired public school teacher of 39 years, she now fills the days staying busy with her community therapy dog, Eli, watching over her mother and father - a U.S. Marine veteran of Iwo Jima in WWII, and even dabbling in the wine making business. Sue’s generosity to her friends and family is boundless. Every Saturday morning since 2016 she has opened her front door to nearly 40 friends. Some come every weekend, others only a few times a year. Some stop by for a quick sip of coffee while others linger for a few hours and catch up over one of her delicious breakfast snacks. Either way, her door of friendship is always open.
The Coronavirus and social distancing have dismantled our physical community and Sue’s coffee group. Late last night she sent out an email to everyone reflecting on her first weeks of “sheltering in place” and the barrage of pandemic news. Her story was so well written I asked if I could share it rather than leave it buried in an email inbox grave. Thank you Sue for sharing your story!
Didn't plan on a long message. Get a cup of coffee. Sit in front of this note. Nod to yourself several times, smile every once in a while…your family will think that you are really reading it.
Two weeks ago, when I emptied my dishwasher, I counted 10 mugs. Yep, 10 mugs. As I put them away, I thought about the person who used each one. Since 2016 there have been very few Saturday mornings that I did not sit with friends and drink coffee. I considered putting all of the mugs on my front porch and asking you each to come get one, then on Saturday morning we could all be connected. I could still do that if you promise to return, mug in hand when we see each other for coffee again.
We all deal with the new normal in different ways. A friend boasted that he was a "glass half-full" kind of guy. He was shaking his head at the "glass half-empty" folks. I just laughed and thought,
"You just go ahead and have your debate. I'm going to drink what's in the glass!”
That is how I roll. To me it matters not how you view the world. I just want to spend time with you no matter what your perspective.
I went three days without turning on the television. I stopped pouring over the "truths'' of Facebook, and even for a while, pulled away from e-mail and text threads. I went into my "house in the mountains" mode. I figured with the information, misinformation and panic out there, there were only a few things that I needed to know and I learned them in kindergarten:
Wash your hands.
Don't hug everyone you see.
Stay six feet away.
Be kind.
Take care of yourself.
Last Sunday, it took me a few minutes to figure out what day it was. Then I was struck with a Hello Dolly earworm:
“…Put on your Sunday clothes when you feel down and out…”
So I did. I took a shower and got out of sweatpants. Every day I now wake to an alarm and get out early to walk with Eli…rain or shine. This week I have showered a few times and yes, changed my clothes. I took a bike ride and joined friends for dog walks…6-foot buffer, of course. I have sat on my porch and seen a parade of friends and even made a few new ones. The crown jewel was after I said to the 10th person that it was possible that I wouldn't see my parents again. I got Eli in the car, called my parents and asked them to walk across the hall to a little room where they pulled up the blinds and we could smile at each other!!!
I do check the print news...every day. I am aware of what is going on in the world. In his 96 years my dad said he has never seen anything like this. I cannot stop the virus or turn back time, but there are things I can control. I can care about people. I can laugh and love my dog, every day. I can connect with the coffee group by sharing the 7:30-9:00 AM time on Saturdays…+6 feet away. I can talk to my parents daily and drive back out to see them from the glass room across their hall. I can join groups meeting on social media and I can back away. I can do yard work, clean out a closet, write letters and notes and make phone calls. I can choose to drink the wine or coffee, tea or hot water instead of getting hung up on the glass being half-empty or half-full. I can live with intention and keep my eye on the future. I get to decide who I want to be when this is all over. The best version of myself has roots in kindergarten.
Tomorrow coffee will be on, as usual, 7:30 - 9:00 AM…let's all stay in our PJ's and stay at home.
I miss you deeply.
Sue
