It’s Saturday morning and I’ve
spent the last three hours on the couch with the doggies. Since Good Morning
America was ending without announcing an unbelievable cure for Coronavirus, I
switched channels to old reruns of House. The doggies and I laid there and
after the first hour, I more or less dozed for the second couple of hours. That’s
probably because I had pie for breakfast and didn’t finish my second latte.
I have a very exciting day planned. First, I’m going to
clean up the kitchen and run the dishwasher. Then I’m going to transfer the
washer contents to the dryer and send my sheets and pillowcases through the
washer. That will require me to make my bed once the bedding is dry. Somewhere
in there, I plan to take a shower, shave my legs and lotion every bit of skin I
can reach. Then I’ll dry my hair so it doesn’t look too bad. Doesn’t this sound
so very exciting you can hardly stand it?
Also, during the day, I need to have a go at the game I’m
playing on my new I-pad, plus I have a book of essays I should continue
reading. And, if that isn’t entertaining enough, I can continue watching Ozark
on Netflix or find something else that’s either an old rerun like House or a completely
new program on Amazon Prime, Hulu, Netflix or a regular station. It’s also
highly likely my cell phone won’t ring even once today. I can barely sit still
for all the excitement.
Does it sound as though I’m feeling a bit pissy, a bit lonely, a bit sorry for myself, and a lot really tired of this shelter-in-place business. Actually, even without the coronavirus, what I’ve written above is pretty much what my Saturdays were like before, but at least I could choose to do something. I never really went anywhere because everyone else was out shopping and doing their weekend stuff while I had all the weekdays in which to do mine. My cell phone rarely rang. The home phone rang on occasion, but it was usually a garbage call…99.9% of the time. Now, even the land line seldom rings.
I have friends, but not a huge circle of them. I have
family, but they have their own lives that keep them busy. I can’t remember if
I’ve ever blogged about my desire to move to Costa Rica beginning the first of
November and not returning to Seattle until the end of March. One thing that’s
sort of made me cautious about doing that is I’d miss my friends and family members.
But, based on the last six months or so, a phone call once a week would
suffice. I seriously doubt my presence in this house in this place would be
seriously missed by anyone.
This
Costa Rica plan is probably just pie in the sky thinking. The stock market hasn’t
been kind, but if I can live on my social security here, I could surely live on
it there. I think it would also be predicated on my ability to clean out this
house and sell it. Then, if I’m going to be in Costa Rica for four or five
months of the year, living in SHAG housing or some other condo-type living
arrangement would be just fine.
Just
out of curiosity, I looked up the coronavirus statistics for Costa Rica. They’ve
had 642 confirmed cases and four deaths. That’s not very bad at all. I might
have been safer if I’d been there than I’ve been living here. I’m certain I would
have stayed in touch with family and friends from there just as well as I have
from here.
Today,
I’d even like to have John back, sitting where I’m sitting, talking to the
doggies more than he would talk to me and napping most of the afternoon. The
house feels so EMPTY with just me and the dogs. When I think about making
dinner, nothing really sounds good. If John were here, I’d be forced to come up
with something; or at the very least, he’d have to make toasted cheese
sandwiches and soup, maybe cook whatever I’d taken out of the freezer.
Then,
I think about how it would be if John were here. At some point in time, he’d
have to go to the hospital ER via 911 because his chronic UTI would have flared
up to the point he couldn’t make sense or even get around very well. That scenario
would undoubtedly have led to him dying of COVID-19, alone in the hospital.
Neither I nor his sons could have gone there to say farewell. At least we got
the chance to do that last August, and he was able to die knowing we all loved
and would miss him.
Don’t
ask me how or why, but that last paragraph made me feel the best I’ve felt all
morning (it’s almost noon). I’m glad John’s not here, although I do miss his
presence terribly some days, because he hasn’t had to live in fear of getting
the virus. I haven’t had to live in fear that I’d bring it home from a grocery
shopping foray. I haven’t had to watch him like a hawk, hoping one little UTI
symptom wasn’t really a symptom.
Yes,
my life could be a lot worse. Yes, my life could be a lot better. But, it’s my
very own life. I’m not answerable to anyone but myself (and the doggies,
chicken and cat). So, I’d best reread the first few paragraphs and get my day
going. Many options await my energy and knowledge.
Finally, when I went to let the
chicken out, the air smelled absolutely wonderful because we had a good cleansing
rain. The pollen count should be much lower. I think my reward for completing
my chores might be taking Karma for a walk or just sitting on the deck and
breathing deeply.