the adventures of dos tortas

Denial – Anger – Bargaining – Depression – Acceptance

We are all familiar with Kubler-Ross’s stages of grief. In the case of Covid19, acceptance has been a moving target. What the heck are we accepting anyway? Oops, that sounded just a tad like anger…sigh.

Kindergarten 

When I was a kid in the 50’s, eons ago, I had asthma. The doctors had no definitive diagnostic tools and threw everything but the kitchen sink at my poor parents. I slept in an crank up hospital bed since I couldn’t breathe lying flat. For months I wasn’t allowed to get my hair wet. No swimming. My mother, bless her heart, found a dry shampoo to clean my hair. With three younger than me, it must have made her life difficult.

I remember having difficulty breathing looking at this picture.

One doctor wanted to remove my tonsils, yikes. Thank God that didn’t happen. I’m probably one of the few people of that era with intact tonsils.

Then came allergy testing. There were weeks of trays of needles used to insert little pillows of allergens under the skin up and down my arms. My mother would take me for an ice cream sundae after appointments. I cherished the time alone with her. I hated the needles.

The list of things I was allergic to was a mile long, chocolate, chicken, mold, dogs, dust. For a year my mother adhered as much as possible to a strict diet for me (we did not however get rid of the dog). Five children and one a special needs kid must have been hard. Nothing seemed to help my asthma, fatigue set in, and the diet went out the window.

So many pictures had dark circles under my eyes.

Being constantly on guard is exhausting. Whether it’s monitoring a diet or the distance someone stands nearby in the grocery store, it gets old. The stages of grief are not linear. I’m at the point where I want everyone else to be really really careful so I don’t have to be. Is that denial or bargaining? How long can I continue to look over my shoulder? Will I be locked in this house forever?

All I can do is take care of today. Lisa and I talk and make decisions day by day and don’t look back. We also try not to look forward which is very different. We always had our eyes down the road. Not any more.

Please stay home if you can. Take care of vulnerable populations around you. Be especially kind to our essential workers. Know that I love you.

DOS TORTAS

When all is over, I will look for you and I will hug you so tight that we will forget time.

When all is over, I will need you more than ever.

(Translated from The Cathedral Restaurant, Oaxaca, Mexico)

I stayed at home to raise my three children for ten years in the 80s to 90s. I know many women do not find the routine of child care, household chores or family life fulfilling or mentally stimulating. Staying home sounds boring.

As my children aged, I went back to school to earn a master’s degree and spent many years working in the field of public health. I’ve experienced both sides of the equation, both staying home and working in a busy career. While I enjoyed my job, the meetings, travel, presentations and grant writing, I’ll take staying home any day.

I used to think that full time motherhood prepared me for the much anticipated retirement, when in actuality it prepared me for the isolation of a world pandemic. Don’t get me wrong, I totally respect today’s parents and the challenges they face that couldn’t have been imagined in my time. I simply mean that I have no trouble filling my days with quiet yet stimulating activity. I am extremely privileged to have adequate income. Living in Mexico means our expenses are few. The gas tank sits full.

I guess we never know how today’s experiences will prepare us for the future. One thing is certain, life as we knew it will never be the same. And in the opinion of many, myself included, that will be a very good thing.

DOS TORTAS