It is stated that every generation has their defining moment. An historical event that challenges the status quo and changes everything. I sit on the cusp of being either a millennial or generation-X—the markers seem to shift as social commentators and other pundits seek to stereotype those with behavioural habits askew from their own perceived norms. Wherever I may fall, during my lifetime I have lived through the collapse of the U.S.S.R. (and subsequent rise of Putin), 9/11, several, seemingly endless wars in the Middle East, the normalization of mass shootings, unchecked capitalism, the invention of the internet and true globalization.
All of these things will have a reverberatory effect for decades to come.
But the unprecedented events of the past month will, perhaps, exceed them.
I’ve wanted to write and document about this time for the past few weeks but just couldn’t muster the energy. The weight of the news—of daily headlines that announce death on a scale not seen outside of war, of an enemy you can’t predict or protect from—bore on my mind and body to the point of daily migraines and body aches. As some touted this as a great time to get projects completed that may have once been cast aside, my personal productivity was low. Thankfully still employed, my normal work was the only thing I wanted to use brainpower for. Outside of that, it’s been binging Tiger King and reading Choose Your Own Adventure books from my childhood. Just enough ludicrous fantasy to distract from the dismal realities of COVID-19.
Added to this is the stress of having no siblings and trying to care for an elderly, widowed parent while living a thousand kilometres away. Never mind the great toilet paper shortage of 2020, it’s been a challenge getting basic pantry necessities for my mother. Rice is increasingly a rare luxury. Even a box of Kraft Dinner now has a street value in excess of its worth. Personally I’m mostly missing fresh garlic, a staple of my cooking that I haven’t seen in weeks.
My last visit to a grocery store was surreal. A guard stood at the front entrance of Safeway watching over a line twenty deep waiting patiently, six feet apart, to get in for supplies. Upon entry, all shoppers were required to either wash their hands at a newly installed station or use disinfectant prior to having a cart handed to them by a gloved employee. Throughout the aisles, bright orange arrows on the ground directed shoppers around the store to aid social distancing (although a few ignored these measures and I was surprised at how quickly I felt anxiety to being close to another human being). Never before had I realized - and longed for - the simple pleasure of loitering. Pasta, canned soup and frozen vegetables were scarce. We are often reminded that supply chains are working but sights like this seem to incite hoarders to buy more as product comes in to the point where little is left for others. I predict there are a lot of peanut butter sandwiches in my near future.
I celebrated my fourtieth birthday a few days ago. My partner and I stayed inside and made a chocolate cake with whatever ingredients we had on-hand. It was delicious and rich and memorable for a number of reasons, not least of which was watching someone bake for the first time. I am very thankful to have a “quarantine” buddy.
Thoughts of my mother still weighed on my mind though. Normally, I would be in my hometown in early Spring visiting with her and my beloved dog Monty (who is her own quarantine buddy now). Being with a loved one, tangibly connecting with their presence, is such an important part of the human experience and I fear the wave of mental health issues that loom as we all navigate through this time. Moreso than any other aspect of this contagion, hearing about people who don’t get to say goodbye or pay proper respects to their lost loved ones saddens me the most. There’s a pain there that will never go away.
On April 1, I phoned my mother and she played an April Fools joke me, as is tradition within the Clague household. It was unexpected this year and her howling laughter at pulling a fast one on me filled my soul with a warmth that I hadn’t felt in weeks. Some aspects of life have remained the same.