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by maribeth
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I’m Thinking of You
I’ve never been so consumed with thinking about people. I’m not dwelling or ruminating or obsessing about others. I’m visiting with folks. I’m spending time with my closest loved ones as much as I’m guarding the safety of those tight-knit families living in their one-room hovels in the slums of Islamabad. I’m hanging with my boyfriend who’s been working 12-hour days to keep the hotel he manages afloat and I’m rushing through the halls of a busy ICU with over-worked medical professionals. I’m sitting with the families that are grieving the loss of their loved ones while maintaining social distancing and I’m riding with that trucker who’s bravely making his way across the country to deliver goods without even being able to sit down at a truck stop to enjoy a good meal. I’m in the kitchen with that family that’s trying to figure out a new way of living, juggling working remotely with homeschooling and this new concentrated version of togetherness. I’m looking over the shoulder of that grocery store clerk who’s stocking shelves for a small wage so that we can continue to fill our refrigerators and pantries. I’m with that person fighting for his or her life on a respirator in the hospital. Indeed, it feels like I’m everywhere these days–at least in my thoughts.
Yet, I am all alone–at least from a physical standpoint. I was very sick for quite a while with presumably some kind of a Telluride crud that I picked up on the mountain while teaching skiing the first week of spring break. (I had a COVID-19 swab test, self isolated for over two weeks and then found out it was negative. It took ten days for the results to come back but even if I had found out that I was coronavirus free sooner, it was best not to be out spreading germs.) During this time, I saw a couple of friends who came by to drop off provisions for me, safely separated by the glass door of my foyer. My guy came by with care packages as well but as hard as it was, we maintained a good ten feet between us, knowing that had there been any less distance we would have been more tempted to fall into each other’s arms. And then once I received my test report, I was thrilled to carefully venture out to the store, the pharmacy and a couple of other necessary places on my list. (Thankfully liquor stores are considered essential businesses here in Colorado.)
Like many people throughout the rest of the world, I’ve been doing this for over a month. I’m not at all bored though. I have my reading and writing, cooking, cleaning and house projects, lots of radio programming (I don’t have a TV) and now that I’m better, I enjoy doing an occasional walk in the countryside surrounding my house. Plus, I have all of you. Really. I’ve never felt so connected to the rest of the world in all my life. All kinds of people, including old college friends, old boyfriends, my ex husband, friends in France, and so many more from the cast of characters that have played a role in the movie that is my life have filled my thoughts and dreams. Prince Charles even appeared in one of my nighttime productions last week! We were eating potato chips together sans gin and tonic unfortunately. I sleep as deeply as a Rocky Mountain bear during the month of January and wake up exhausted, perhaps because of all the visiting I do during the night. In pondering the symbolism behind these dreams, I’ve come to the conclusion that the night is just a continuation of how my brain has been functioning throughout my waking hours: thousands of loved ones and total strangers pop into my head over the course of the day and with each flash, I’m wondering consciously or unconsciously how they are doing. Best of all, I feel myself sending them strength and love.
The expression “my thoughts and prayers are with you” has gotten a bad rap. Honestly. I believe in the power of thoughts and prayers more so than ever. And I feel like I’m working overtime these days to stay emotionally connected with everyone in this world, particularly those in need. We have all discovered the meaning of “we are one” throughout this worldwide pandemic. I feel for the people of Italy as their death toll reaches inconceivable numbers. I’m experiencing the horror and sadness that New Yorkers feel upon seeing the refrigerated trucks line up outside their hospitals for the storage of the dead. I’m fluffing up the pillow for that medic sleeping in his car. I’m feeling the excitement of that oh-so creative person that has turned her 3-D printer into a face mask-making machine.
Everyday I find myself having a good cry. I’m not at all depressed. I’m just full of empathy and compassion and although it can be tiresome, shedding tears is a wonderful release both physically, emotionally and mentally.