Day 25, self quarantine: Happy Passover. I’m not exactly feeling like I thought I would today.
Back in January, the month I thought would never end, I kept looking at the calendar to see when I could take a break from my crushing work load. We had back to back trials through February, and March would have to be a catch up month on all our other cases. Because I work for an Orthodox Jewish firm, we’re closed for Passover today and tomorrow, and Wednesday and Thursday next week.
I decided to go somewhere great these four days. I texted Julie in early February to see if she was available and started researching spas. I wanted four days of warm sunshine, great food and being ridiculously pampered.
Kinda like here every day at Casa Slick. What I take for granted.
Or used to.
As I was googling fancy resorts, the first news out of China and Italy started breaking. And then Seattle, where Julie lives.
Within a few weeks, it was clear I wasn’t going anywhere.
This morning, I’m watching the news and seeing lines of cars stretched for miles with anguished families financially decimated by this quarantine, desperately waiting for cartons of free food.
I’m seeing interviews with weeping, exhausted health care workers separated from their families for safety reasons.
I’m seeing big refrigerator trucks loaned by WAWA rolling up ominously next to hospitals.
I’m reading about John Prine.
I’m trying not to be down, I really am, but I’m scared. And I miss my kids. Eric was supposed to be in town this month to play a Neil Peart tribute show at the Ardmore, and Natalie, with Eric on drums, was supposed to be here in May to open for Hall and Oates.
Julie was supposed to arrive here Tuesday for a two week visit.
Maybe it’s the holidays, but I miss my family so much I’m sitting here crying like a big dummy. It feels like months before I’ll see them again and with a sinking heart I realize that’s true.
Yesterday I spoke to our office manager.
“Tony, any idea when we’ll be back in the office?”
“Oh, I think we’re out until at least May 15.”
Oh my God.
I texted my boss somewhat hysterically with the news.
His reply?
“I’ll be very happy if we’re back by May 15. Don’t count on it.”
Wut?
Okay, deep breaths. There are two paths I can take here.
From my spot on my sofa this morning, watching the news in horror, and writing this post, which has become my daily therapy, I am 100% positive which one I’m taking.
I choose to be grateful.
Very, very grateful.
As a gift to myself, I’m posting my favorite family pic of all time, from Eric and Natalie’s wedding last year.
Happy Passover.
