Ten years gone

After dinner we lit a stick of incense and sat in the family room waiting for the moon to come up. I was teaching Lily how to cook simple things like stir fry and rice. We made a pasta dish using the last of the broccoli and bell pepper. I found a dealer on Amazon who sells packs of Nepalese incense and ordered six packs of 50 each. I counted out the number of beers I had left and decided Thursday I’d head back to the store. Dawn wanted me to wear a mask, which I did begrudgingly, but felt like a bank robber or terrorist. And then I heard the masks are kind of pointless unless you yourself are sick. Which none of us can verify really, so I guess everyone should be wearing masks. And my masks are N-95 which carries a level of guilt, but I had them in the garage pre-Corona. We were worried Dawn might have it because she was throwing up and had a headache for two days straight. So we isolated her in the master bedroom and brought her saltines and Gatorade. I had a talk with Lily about the scenario where both mom and dad get sick and someone has to assume control of the house, which would fall to Lily. Caring for the animals and her sister, going to the store for supplies, learning to cook rice. I timed the discussion on the walk back from the end of the road after wheeling the trash receptacles for Tuesday pickup. Dawn rebounded, her appetite back, and finished the stir fry Lily cooked, loaded with garlic, ginger, and jalapeño. I holed up in Dawn’s study with a mattress we reserve for company and keep in the garage propped by the door. I bookend the days now with coffee and wine, and Sunday the new Xbox came but we couldn’t figure out the controls and had to keep looking it up on the internet or calling Lily’s friends for help. They say tonight’s moon will be the biggest and brightest of the year. I think it’s tied to Easter somehow.



Categories: Memoir, microblogging, writing

Tags: , , , , ,

20 replies

  1. Timely tit-bits of daily core, elevated to a new height just by putting them in paper. Pleasant realization of how simple things can be made special by arranging them in an easy flair. Enjoyed reading it.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Gosh what an awful time to get sick. Glad to hear Dawn is feeling better. The conversation you had with your daughter, man…these are difficult times. Stay well Bill.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. We sat out tonight and watched the moon, glass of bourbon in hand and fire raging. (I love the smell of burnt wood on a shirt the next morning.)

    Hope this finds you and yours well, in spite of the everythings thrust upon us by our own shortcomings as a species.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Hey Brian! I love seeing that avatar pop up on my phone here, for more reasons than one. And songs with anagram titles. Lead hats, burnt wood on the shirt. Thanks for this, hope you and yours are doing okay.

      Like

  4. glad dawn is feeling better and no harm in teaching all basic life skills. even if the kids don’t have to take over leading the family, they will be prepared when they go out in the world on their own someday.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’m stressed just reading that. Poor kids to have to think about these scenarios. You have achieved Doom Level 2.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. I’ve had many of these same thoughts over the past few weeks. Twice my daughter woke up sick and I thought ‘here we go…’ but both times it was a migraine. I’m not worried about my kids starving. They both cook and shop on occasion but I worry about the psychological impact of being left in charge. When I was seventeen my biggest concern was where to hide my dime bag to avoid getting busted.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Yeah that’s a different level of weight, hiding dime bags vs caring for sick family members. Ha! Glad to hear your daughter is okay, we’ll all be different from this and hopefully better.

      Liked by 2 people

  7. Think I’ll focus on the moon (and the booze). The rest is too scary.

    Liked by 1 person

  8. It hadn’t even occurred to me that it could come to an “if we both go down” talk with the little ones. Man.

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Cripes. I hadn’t even thought about the kinds of conversations parents must be having with their children right now. Stay safe and keep talking — and keep posting to the rest of us.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: