Jilly Brandon

Glowing, warmth and the way it streams in the windows in the late afternoon bathes its’ shafts of lovely light, which pours onto everything it lands upon.

The shadows are minimal, and seem embarrassed as they stretch to hide away. They are the inside of the box, and where the sun glows and reaches is like fresh hope. The crevices of the hidden cracks in the dark that were hidden are with the warmest of glows … exposed.

Our homes have become our boxes these past few weeks. Some of us have stayed inside, as we have been cautioned to washing our hands many many times a day, until they crack, dry out and bleed, they are so clean. The alcohol based purel stings as you drop it into your palm, and with great diligence rub your hands together, with the distinct scent of alcohol as it wafts upwards in the direction of your nose reminds us…. we are trying to keep the virus away from our doors.

It is an unwelcome guest to our homes, and businesses, and lives, but it is “ no respecter of persons.” It is just single minded in its quest to spread. We did not invite it in, and we certainly don’t want it to stay. We hang out “ no vacancy” signs in neon lights like blood on the top, and sides of the door in the days of Moses and the Destroyer Angel . Yes.. I just went biblical.. The movie “Prince of Egypt” popped into my head… and even the animated visual in this scene was terrifying…

So this verse…

“When the Lord goes through the land to strike down the Egyptians, he will see the blood on the top and the sides of the doorframe, and will pass over that doorway, and he will not permit the destroyer to enter your houses and strike you down.”

Exodus 12:23

We are trying to protect ourselves from this “angel of death” that has come to our towns, villages, cities countries, and little blue planet in the form of a virus that is virulent and hungry for more victims.

Protecting ourselves with gloves, and masks, and lots of hand washing, and social distancing, staying in our homes, and only venturing forth for a breath of fresh air, a walk, or to do essential tasks.

Some of our loved ones are in Retirement Homes, and we have been unable to kiss, hug, or hold them for many weeks now. Some have passed away, and many are sick, and the virus seems to have anchored its legs amongst us, and intends to unpack its cluttered suitcase , spreading its soiled laundry anywhere it possibly can.

We are witnessing our world trying to work together on a global scale . Single minded searching for a vaccine, a way to treat this intruder… this enemy..

It is bigger than our borders, it affects us all… all of humanity together during this lifetime, has not seen anything quite like this.

We see humans coming together collectively to sew masks, to make sanitizing products.. A world working together for its’ survival..

Doctors, and nurses, PSWs, janitors, garbage collectors, construction men and women, roadside assistance, bakers, and chefs, truck drivers, and maintenance people. There are working together as if in a time of war, and it appears we are definitely fighting the enemy of a contagion that is fierce and strong. We arm ourselves with protective gear, and we pray for ourselves.. and for the people who are willingly putting themselves in harms’ way.. our front line…and we keep busy, being kind, thoughtful and thankful…hopeful.

I wander from bathroom sink, to kitchen sink just to use different smelling soaps… just for a little notoriety. Then I think, wait, did I touch that, did I disinfect, where are the Lysol wipes again? Do I have toilet paper, tissue, paper towel… coffee… and is there still a box of wine in my fridge with anything in it?

It’s like a trail of odd bread crumbs to find your sanitation and disinfecting products all around your house.. it tells you where you have been at least that day, but then when were you there, was it a Tuesday, or a Saturday?.. ..The week days seem conjoined, and slip one into the other.

Am I the only one who feels like their brain is mush?

I feel more anxious.. definitely. It seems certain that lots of people are feeling this way… this is unchartered territory. We look at our neighbors with trepidation when we see them, waving hello from a safe distance, and wondering if they have the virus, do I have the virus, am I about to get this COVED19 virus? We cannot be sure, even if we are doing everything right, that this virus will not come down upon us.

How to manage this angst…?

To say that we are living in strange times, is a gross understatement.

It is an isolating and odd feeling to know that it is best to stay home, if you are blessed to be able to do that, and have a home to be in, that is a treasure, and your safe house is your sanctuary.

Those physicians out there that are gowned, gloved, and masked, are there for all of us.. willing to put themselves knowingly In amongst the sick .. taking the Hippocrates oath,

“ I swear to fulfill , by the best of my ability and judgment, this covenant: I will respect the hard-one scientific gains of those physicians in whose steps I walk, and gladly share such knowledge as is mine and those that are to follow.”

The promise within this oath is “ first do no harm.” And in Latin..” primum non nocere “

These heroes and specialists all throughout our medical communities are knowingly putting themselves in amongst this virus in order to save our lives…

“ not all heroes wear capes. “

I’ve been in my home for 14 days now on my own.. I haven’t been out in my car, unless it’s to move it out of the driveway, and into the street.

In the middle of all of this, workmen are restoring the cracked foundation of my house, racing against the Impending Spring weather, and potential flood season. It’s been nearly a year that the Flood of 2019 was visited upon the area from whence I live.

The timing to me is incredible. The permits issued to this restoration project were some of the last issued to the City of Ottawa, before everything was shut down because of the pandemic.

I stay inside mostly, keeping my distance, unless I’m taking photos, and seeking to understand this process as it unravels before me.

Our foundation is rocked, and cracked when sickness and disease enter our lives. We don’t want it, and yet it erodes, and seeps into the crevices that we didn’t know were there. It makes its way down deep within, and the wet liquid cement ebbs into the empty spaces like fresh blood, filling, and clotting, and healing the wound from the outside.

We, the people, (and no I’m not about to recite The US Constitution ,) can be the band aids for the wounds of others. It seems like a small and insignificant gesture to offer support through phone calls, and face time calls, but it’s making us feel less alone, and keeps us vitally connected to one another, and our communities from all across the globe. It’s helps a lot… and many little gestures add up to big important ones to that person who is feeling isolated and alone.

People are being creative, and spreading cheer and hope to one another from far away.. we recognize we are all in this together, and there is something really outrageously beautiful in seeing this play out with one another, at least from the viewpoint that people are looking for ways to help out one another from afar, and from very close.

From the outside we see the scars, the evidence that work has been done, but from the inside, there will be healing. The evidence of the wounds will still be there, but they will be stronger, then all of the surrounding parts. It is possible that we, as a people could be stronger too..

The thick black rubberized tar is painted on like the “neopsporin” ointment that is first applied, then the plastic for extra moisture protection, and finally the foundation wrap. Then it’s ready to be covered up.. good as new.

Times feel serious, and the future feels uncertain, and that is scary. This is a time when we need an antidote for this.. we need to laugh, to hear the birds still singing in the morning, to smell the scent of fresh wet Spring dirt..to find the humor amidst this kaos.

Healing comes alongside its’ brother and sister, and it’s name is humor. In the darkest of times, when there is pain that threatens to consume, humor brings back a lightness, if even just for a moment. When the tears are cried, and the eyes are red, and the face is splotchy, the head aches, and someone tells a bad joke, or accidentally stubs their toe…out comes the giggle, then followed by laughter, which often times feels as if your sides will split apart. There is such relief in laughter. It is like a clean cotton gauze dressing to bind up the hurt. It doesn’t mean the pain isn’t still there, but it does mean, for that brief glimmer in time, you forgot…. and that is good.