We stand in front of the open garage. Staring down the water damage caused by a leak from the apartment above. We pass the idea back and forth. Should we, gulp, knock on our neighbors door? Do people still do that? What is the etiquette during a time of quarantine?
Is this one of those silver-lining moments where a crisis brings people together? We decide to go for it. Mr. Rogers-style. I ring the doorbell and uncross my arms.
Our neighbor is delightful and genuinely unaware that the damage went as far as our garage.
What seemed like a potentially awkward confrontation develops into a human connection. The woman living next to neighbor #1 opens her door. She openly admits to ‘creepin’ on our conversation. She’s one of us.
We exchange numbers and decide to create a facebook group for our complex. I’m loving every moment of this unexpected morning. Why? Because strangers connected effortlessly and agreed to look out for each other. What a beautiful, beautiful thing.
Nick vigorously and rigorously organizes the garage. I vigorously and rigourously change outfits 5 times.
Days lose shape in the afternoon.
I do the three things that ground me:
1. Look at a picture of Kennedy. Pure sustenance for the heart.
2. Stand for five minutes in the kitchen smelling fresh dill and contemplate my future herb garden.
3. Open the art pantry and stare. Stare and stare until you know exactly what to do: create a rainbow tiger out of perler beads.
Days lose shape and moods fluctuate. Today I feel a bit down. And we keep trudging. One colorful bead in front of the other.
With love & a red knit cardigan,