Seeking normal

In a time when everything seems to be shifting into crazy gear, I finally ventured out to procure some pantry and food items. I would have should have gone earlier in the week but. You know. Panic in the streets and reports of empty shelves made me envision crowds and droves of insanity. And since I no longer have young children and my mother is safely ensconced in memory care. I was thinking we could probably get by on what we have if need be.

I also tend to run the opposite direction of crowds. This is when my introverted side comes out. She refuses to participate. And she shuts down completely thoroughly the extroverted part personality pieces of who I am.

Macy has face timed us several times this week checking in discussing hypothesizing debating what direction path her university will choose in response to our current pandemically challenged situation. She and friends are now happily staying in dorms with open cafeterias waiting to engage in online classes. She is thrilled delighted relieved to not have to report home. Since her group is so very intertwined co-dependent entangled, it would have been heart breaking to separate. I imagined some from this group might accompany her home. And they would be (always are) most welcome.

Ella’s spring break begins this weekend and we are going to take some time to spend with her next week and then she will be attending dentist and hair cut appointments and anything else we can cross off the list the week after. There is a distinct possibility that she may also be participating in online classes.

I feel for everyone in this situation. None of this is easy. We must always as humans be able to adapt flex demonstrate resiliency. Others past have faced much more horrifying circumstances. Hopefully I will survive without hand sanitizer as it is out of stock.

I walked sidled approached sheepishly the Target store this morning. We needed dishwashing detergent, laundry detergent, soda, cereal, deodorant, advil. All very normal stuff. I also wanted to buy canned chickpeas and beans in case I find myself making vegetarian chili in the future.

The inside of the store was like a zombie apocalypse. And no, I do not know what that looks like. And I have never seen a zombie movie nor am I a reader of zombie literature. But that is exactly what it felt like.

Bare shelves. Out of stock signs. Felt like the walking dead in the aisles. People looked anxious scared off. Seeking something anything that would make them feel more in control less fragile. Not a single can of chickpeas. It was weird.

And then there was only one person doing checkout. Who wanted to provide commentary on every single item. Slowly. And he thought he was funny charming haha friendly. He was not. More like one of those people you would direct your children away from. And most people who work here are very nice so this was an atypical experience.

But feeling part of a room full of zombies. Checked out by the scary clown. I looked at the purchases lining up on the belt behind mine. And noticed the familiar mac and cheese cups. Then I looked at her. Typical mom. Looking confused bewildered. Trying to figure out what to buy in case we all have to self- quarantine.

I told her I had chosen to make the same purchase because I honestly did not know what else to do. She laughed and we engaged in a calming conversation about the crazy zombie apocalypse. We shared expressed our shock surprise disbelief over bare shelves and massive doomsday panic. And in those moments, we both exhaled. Here was a normal interaction. A familiar presence in a stranger. Someone relatable. Tangible.

After the gym, I found enough courage to slip inside the grocery store. Eggs, milk, bread, butter, yogurt. Usual stuff. But also people wandering lost almost broken fearful. Again, I felt discomfort.

Checkout line and after placing my goods on the belt, I took note of the woman behind me with a very active young man. He made me laugh. So full of bouncy and intrigue and desiring of interaction and stimulation. I whispered to her that although adorable, watching him made me tired. She heartily concurred and an immediate bond was created. We talked kids. She asked me if I missed my college daughter. My response that it is easy when they are doing so well succeeding happy fulfilled. And did I miss the young ages. No. I have incredibly beautiful fond loving memories that sometimes almost always can instigate a teary response reflection. But I also have now. And next. And those are amazing places that I wish to feel see be.

And then I shared that she was clearly doing a great job. Be strong. Enjoy the different stages. All of it is good in its own way.

And another normal content happy moment. Nothing filled with panic or pandemic. No politics or health advisories.

Simple. Normal. Happy.

(If you find yourself holding your breath for too long, seek out the normal. Your soul and heart need love. Embrace familiar human interaction even if it requires social distancing. Canines will also do)

(Photo of Cooper with his teddy bear because sometimes that’s just what you need…)