Are you feeling stressed? I am.
Every time my phone dings with a text message.
Every time we spread a new puzzle on the table.
Every time I think about how much scientists still don’t know about this virus
Every night when I lie in bed.
I love the quiet moment in the morning before dreams and awakening, before I remember we are still swirling in a pandemic.
I miss the freedom of being able to run out to the store whenever I feel like it.
I feel guilty that I used to run out to the store whenever I felt like it.
A friend says she’s stressed over all the Zoom meetings in her schedule.
My neighbor texted me, stressed about the construction crew ripping up her lawn to lay pipes because none of them were wearing masks, yet they shouted directly in each other faces, and then they all jumped down into a big hole together. I worry for them.
The temperatures are rising, the sun is shining, and people venture out. They drop their guard, but nothing has changed and the virus is still out there. This stresses me.
What’s your release valve?
I sew masks. I don’t know where they’re all going to go. It doesn’t matter. Sewing has always been my balm from stress. It keeps me busy like you don’t know.
I’ve sewn about 200 for friends, small businesses, the local food pantry, nurses, a senior support group, and family. I’ve made so many I finally decided to list some of them for sale on my Etsy site.
Then my 10 year old Husqvanrna sewing machine inexplicably stopped working, and I have no place to take it for repair. That was a stress! So I fetched my old Kenmore from my daughter’s. It’s a solid machine, heavy as a tank. My mother bought it for me when I got married in 1976. I cleaned and oiled it, and it’s been sewing through thick layers of seams and folds as if they were butter.
I wrote a post about my trusty old machine on my Mask Makers Facebook group, and lovers of old Kenmore machines are cheering its virtues. I feel the beginning of a Kenmore cult.
It makes me happy that others share in my joy.
Little pleasures
They still matter. So let’s talk about the good things.
I’m really glad to know my husband and I still get along now that we spend ALL day together. Sure, we go on solo walks Just for some alone time, but that’s a good thing. He’s sharing the cooking AND he does the dishes, regardless of who cooks. For the first time in a long time we see eye to eye on politics.
Zoom allows me to attend literary readings and meetings I might otherwise miss. I see a lot of my fellow writers at these events, and it gives me a sense of community, even though we can’t hug.
I’m finally catching up on reading. I just finished Anne Tyler’s latest, “Redhead at the Side of the Road,”, and now I’m reading Michael Zadoorian’s “The Narcissism of Small Differences.” If only I could be more motivated to work more on my writing.
Tomorrow. I have time.
Thank you for visiting!
Linda K. Sienkiewicz is a writer, poet, and artist:
Multi-finalist award winning novel: In the Context of Love,
Picture book: Gordy and the Ghost Crab,
Poetry chapbook: Sleepwalker,
Linda’s social media links: LinkTree
I feel the same way 🙁 It’s hard not to know what the future will bring…
Yes, the uncertainty is the hardest part! Thanks for reading. Be safe, Kelly!
Linda, a great post that reaches into the intimacy of fear and what we do to face it. Thank you.
Recently we had a sermon (on no, church!! ) about finding our purpose during this time. That perhaps it’s a great time to do that. You certainly have found yours, perhaps several purposes.
I found mine in helping my online English students get to the end of one of the strangest semesters they, or I, have experienced. And reading in a group, with on online zoom discussion. And getting to know my husband of 24 years better.
Thanks for your contributions.
I imagine your students were grateful for your help. And isn’t it amazing that we can still learn new things about our spouses/partners? I’m grateful for that much. hugs to you.
💜💛