Wednesday, March 25, 2020

Quarantining Pirates

Che and I are playing Pirate for the umpteenth time today, a game her Mother started as a way of keeping our 3 year old daughter in bed a while longer in the mornings.

Che springs to life when she wakes and many hours later passes out while still putting up a valiant fight with sleep.

"DAD-DEE" she yells though tucked in for the night, so I climb the stairs leaving an already collapsed Sarah on the sofa, stumbling into Che's dark bedroom where the issue ranges from the need to potty to ghosts hiding in the dark to one more kiss and hug.

We have no idea how she keeps going but her boundless energy could light the entire Western Hemisphere.

We're quarantined in a playground because Maddie, home from her freshmen year in College to isolate with us, has promised Che to take her for days but can't find the time to do so.

Sarah's close to exploding because her work expects her to care for 41 clients without actually seeing them during this pandemic.

I'm sick of the house and Che desperately needs to run around so we at the playground.

The gnats were too bad at the first so we're at another, tucked away behind a Church that's closed for business.

"Pirate Daddy, what do you see?" she asks holding a pretend telescope.

My bare feet dangle in the air from the top of a plastic blue jungle gym and she stands behind me with an arm on my shoulder.

The phone buzzes with a text from Sarah detailing the Governor's latest round of restrictions to save us from being infected with the Coronavirus.

"Let's show Mom what we're doing," I say.

"Okay Pirate Daddy," she smiles and I snap this picture.

The photo clearly shows our little girl in pure Pirate mode while her ol' man looks okay behind the smile, sunglasses and weathered cap.

Truth is, I'm exhausted.

Sarah is too.

None of the girls are.

I feel every bit like a 63 year old man after an almost full day of being primary parent to a 3 year old.

The phone buzzes again and Sarah's sent a completely unintelligible message having something to do with Cassidy, but my mind's turned to dinner and I'm thinking about picking something up before coming home because I don't want to cook or clean.

Quarantine is hard work, especially with small children and indestructible teenage who challenge every decision, though I know it's hard for everyone.

Every moment there are between four and six of us in a house too small for everyone to have private space.

The other morning I got up at 4 am just to have time to myself.

It's a brave new world we suddenly find ourselves managing pretty much alone though we are a society built upon social gatherings ... in Church, at political rallies, in Bars, restaurants, music venues, the park or a thousand other places we interact.

Such things may kill us.

Sarah sees the pandemic as a way of hitting reboot ... for our family first and, maybe if everyone else takes this to leave the past and build a new future, the world can start over too.

The muddy waters of Venice, Italy are suddenly clear again because of the Quarantine.

As hard as all of this is, and it's very hard, it's the image I keep in mind in hopes that it's me too that cleansed of old rotten ways of doing things through self discovery of my self, loved one and friends I now have to deal with virtually.

In the Bible, the Apostle John was sentenced to live out his life quarantined on a deserted island. While there he wrote the book of "Revelation" which is the end of the Bible,  where he saw "a new Heaven and a new Earth" because the old had passed away ... and God dwelt among the people.

I take this to mean the incredible and great good that can come from being Quarantined.

As hard as it is.

Because it's very hard.


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