Dispatch From the Home Front

How long have we all been at home? Maybe a decade. The way days are blending together, it’s hard to tell.

I’m someone who prefers city life. Being able to walk. Be around people and culture. Not have to rely on a car for everything. But I can’t imagine what the past few weeks would’ve been like if we didn’t have a yard for the boys to play in, or wide streets for daily walks.

People have asked how the kids are handling all of this. Well. They couldn’t care less. Seems like summer came early for them. We’re having them work on the distance learning assignments that the school sent home. But that leaves much of the day open for Legos and bike riding and their favorite pastime: fighting with each other.

They know that people are sick and dying. But that is arbitrary to them. Everything looks perfectly fine in their world.

They don’t have the ability or knowledge to worry about the impact to the economy or the ways in which the world could be changing in major, major ways.

They also can’t constantly refresh Twitter to get the latest hot takes on the end of the world.

And that’s OK.

I never once worried about my dad’s job growing up. There was never a second thought about drastic changes in standards of living. Dad was in the Navy, but I don’t know that I would’ve been aware of the stability that his career afforded us.

We’re all hanging in there at the moment. The only thing you can do in circumstances like this is to handle every day as it comes. One day at a time. One moment to the next.

We have our health and safety at the moment, which makes for a pretty good moment to live in.