Friday, May 29, 2020…1:21pm
The end of week 11.
It’s a gray day. May Gray is what it’s called here in Southern California. It fits the general mood in our house this week. Gray. Blah. Sigh.
I’m feeling a bit like Eeyore.
My husband had outpatient surgery on Tuesday to remove bone spurs in an ankle. The whole process of dropping him off curbside at the hospital and then returning several hours later to retrieve him curbside was surreal. It also altered the rhythm of our week enough that things felt more disjointed than what has become “normal”.
More and more things have begun to open up this week, but I have no desire to venture out to any of them. The whole process of masking up, standing in lines, and being hyper aware of allowing other people personal space still makes every outing feel like a chore.
The kids are down to 8 days remaining in the school year. However with everything they had planned cancelled and the uncertainty surrounding travel, we still find ourselves staring at a wide open calendar as Summer looms on the horizon.
It seems to have finally hit the man-child that he will complete his middle school years without the chance to say goodbye to beloved teachers in person. He has also really been missing face-to-face time with friends this week.
The girl is holding up the best of all of us right now, but only because she spends hours in her room on FaceTime with friends.
We’ve begun the process of figuring out what re-gathering looks like at church. It’s a mind blowing exercise in what-ifs and what-nexts. My brain is fried from my work hours this week spent pondering and planning.
It’ll get better. Right now we’re just stuck in gray, blah, sigh. But at least, in the words of Eeyore, “…we haven’t had an earthquake lately.”
Be well my friends.
We're All A Little Broken 