Life has been so unfair to us lately, hasn’t it? I mean, none of us want to be cabin fevered inside trying to protect from the virus lurking out there. It’s not how life is supposed to be, for any of us. We’re creatures of habits, of adventure, of the outdoors. Even if we’re couch junkies, once in awhile, we do crave a night out. But now, life changed all of that and it sucks.
The lack of control we have in all of this is frustrating, right? Even for those who are not control centered, there has to be a little if-only-I-could’s in us. If only I could go to the store and get try on those shoes. If only I could have a Friday night dinner with my lover. If only I could see a movie or go to the theater with a friend. If only I could throw a birthday party. But we can’t because a decision was made for us and because most of us are good and concerned people, we are adhering to it. It sucks being good and concerned people sometimes, doesn’t it?
Yesterday, a waterfall erupted behind the wall of a spare bathroom decorating my kitchen’s ceiling in a giraffe stained pattern. About three weeks ago, I had the entire inside of my house painted, including the ceiling. I had some carpentry done as well which meant new base boards put in. It appears a nail went through the baseboard and into a major pipe which was the source of the problem. Long story short, a kind man I know who is a plumber came out, cut a hole in my wall to cap off the pipe. He told me a hole will most likely be needed to be cut in the kitchen’s ceiling as well. Because of this virus, he is extremely busy and would not be able to repair the pipes until some time in April. I called the carpenter this morning and he will repair the wall and ceiling once the pipes are fixed.
I was destroyed yesterday. Before the plumber and the carpenter presented fixable solutions, I was destroyed. I could not stop crying. My life has been one thunder clap after another these past eight months. Peter’s death, a large house in need of so much cosmetics to sell, boxes and boxes and more stuff to go through in basement and garage, a pandemic that tripped my anxiety, my mother’s death and then a waterfall in my walls, put me on the edge of what-the-hell and loosing balance without any hopes of better. And I felt this way for most of the day. Then came the glimpses of blessings in the forms of a kind plumber, an agreeable carpenter, a daughter who righted me, a dog who comforted me, friends and sisters who listened to me, and reminders of those brave people who are taking on this virus while the rest of us distance to do our part. Perspective does seem to be an equalizer in my own self-absorption.
And so I bring it back to all of us, how we all are dealing with our lack of freedom, control and assurance. How each of us are together in all of this. How our blocks, neighborhoods, towns, states, nation and world are all given the similar fight of conquering this virus. How all of us, all of humanity now, are feeling the same feels, experiencing the same anxieties, taking the same precautions, and heading nearly the same advice. And it is binds us in a way nothing has ever bound us before, not in my lifetime anyway. In this pandemic, there are no sides. There is only all of us against a bug.
So, yes, the waterfall in my walls discouraged me, depressed me, brought me to my knees in a what-next state. Hopes for better lessened because the waterfall was another smack down as I try to rise. Yet, I know I am part of a bigger world. I am part of the collective angst and frustration penetrating all of us right now. We must all hold on and know this will end. And when we get our waterfalls between our walls, we need to hold onto that ending.