Tuesday, March 17, 2020

Coronavirus, the Beginning

They laughed at me two weeks ago when I came home with staples from Costco.  I had gone to order contacts for Kyle, and while I was there, I decided to refill my basement stash.  I usually keep several cans of black beans, garbanzo beans, green beans, diced tomatoes, tomato sauce, and pasta on the shelves.  I go through this stuff fairly quickly, and I was halfway empty with the rumor of a pandemic on the horizon.

I chided myself for being alarmist.  I didn't want people to think I was panicking, but I've seen too many disaster movies.  I don't want to be the person who blows off warnings only to get eaten by the zombies in the end.  So, I restocked.  I got a a case of all of the above-mentioned canned goods.  A case of pasta.  Pasta sauce. Coffee. Frozen vegetables.  Frozen meals. Cereal.  A case of vegetarian soup in case we got sick.  I thought about buying toilet paper, but I've started getting it from Grove, and I had just ordered this month's supply, so I passed.

When I brought it home, Kyle laughed at me, teasing me about being paranoid.  "Freaking out a little bit, Mom?"

"No," I responded.  "I'll use all this stuff eventually. Help me take it downstairs."

I watched the news.  I saw what happened in China.  I paid attention to what was going on in Italy.  Lots of people were getting sick, dying.  People in Washington State tested positive.  Italy went on lockdown.  Italy. went. on. lockdown.  The country. On lockdown.  The president suspended all travel from Europe.

I went to Target and got more supplies.  More pasta.  More beans.  More cereal.  Toothpaste. Deodorant. Shampoo.  Laundry soap. Two cartons of Clorox Wipes.  Cough medicine. Cough drops.  Tylenol. Advil. There were about a dozen packages of toilet paper.  I put one in my cart.

I went to Kroger.  I couldn't help it.  I knew I was panic shopping, but when you walk into a store and the shelves are literally bare, it freaks you out.  The potatoes were gone.  The onions were gone.  There was no broccoli.  Hardly any lettuce or spinach or kale.  The bread was wiped out.  Canned goods were almost gone as was pasta, macaroni and cheese, rice...There was no toilet paper at all.  There were hardly any raisins.  Raisins, for god's sake.  Who the hell buys raisins in a pandemic?  The eggs were empty.  No butter.  Hardly any cheese or milk.  Frozen pizzas?  Empty.  TV dinners?  Almost gone.  It was scary as hell.  I bought what I could.  More beans.  More frozen vegetables and fruit.  Peanut butter.  Root vegetables that will keep a couple of weeks in the fridge.










I went to Paul's and found potatoes and onions and put them in my cart.  Vegetable bullion cubes in case we get sick.

I brought it all home and took it to the basement.  It sat in bags on the floor, waiting.

Last Tuesday, Kyle left for Malaysia.  In the middle of a pandemic.  He flew into Abu Dhabi in the UAE, which was stressful enough.  Then he landed in Asia, where this pandemic started, with plans to tour Vietnam with Macey.  Thankfully, they decided to stay in Malaysia in case something happened and they couldn't get back into the country.  I felt so helpless watching him walk away.  I cried all the way home and off and on the rest of the day.  Claire had come to Louisville to go with us to the airport, and she left for Lexington once we got home from the airport.








Universities around the country began to go to online classes.  Berea in Kentucky ended their semester early and sent everyone home.  On Wednesday, we got an email from UK that they were going to online classes after spring break until April 3.  On Thursday, we got an email that all schools in the state of Kentucky would go to online learning beginning Monday, March 16. 

Brendan's prom, set for Friday, March 13, got cancelled.  "Newsies" went on as scheduled Thursday night, and the kids were told that they would be able to do their last shows on Friday and Saturday.  I got a text from Jill Schurman during the performance that she had talked to Ms. Reisert, the St. X director, and that this was the last show.  I kept holding out hope that she was wrong, but I knew in my heart she wasn't.  I had to play it off like I didn't know, and everyone was saying how happy they were that they would get to finish the run, and my heart was breaking inside knowing that that was the last time I would see Emily and her friends at St. X perform together on stage.




Some parents from Trinity decided that the kids should get dressed up in their formals and go out to eat anyway. One parent offered to host the "after party" at their house.  I scrambled to order a boutonniere for Brendan while Emily was at school learning the ins and outs of distance learning.




Claire left for Cumberland Island, Georgia on Saturday morning.  She was an assistant leader on a backpacking-camping trip around the island.  Even though UK had cancelled pretty much everything else, they let this university-sponsored trip continue because the kids would be removed from everyone.  She was planning to turn her cell phone off and enjoy unplugging from the world.  Plus, they would have only intermittent service, so it wouldn't do any good to have it on anyway.  They arrived Saturday night and stayed in a hotel before taking the ferry over to the island the next morning.

The St. X parents wanted the kids to be able to have their Senior Circle and to come down the stairs to "Fill Me Up, Buttercup," so we got a party together at another parent's house.  We justified it by saying they were all together the day before.  I rode around town looking for plastic wrap for flowers, baby's breath, etc.  We all met at the Kramer's at 6;30, and a houseful of kids not appropriately socially distanced gathered one more time.  They went up to the second floor and came down singing "Buttercup," and we all sang back.  I cried.




Kyle texted me on Sunday that all was fine in Malaysia.  Nobody was panicking or stocking up on food.  He sent me pictures of him and Macey in Kuala Lumpur, taking in the sights.  No worries.


On Monday, the governor shut down all restaurants, bars, churches, and any gathering of more than 50 people.  On Monday night, the president and the CDC said no gatherings of more than 10 people.

Claire was still on Cumberland Island with no cell service.  I had no way to know if she had any idea what was going on.

I began to question the intelligence of my spring break plans.  Emily, Bree, Hannah, and Lucie and two of their moms, Heidi and Karen, and I were all headed to Indian Rocks, Florida next week.  The other people were planning to fly there, but we had always going to drive down.  I kept telling myself that we could social distance ourselves in a house on the beach in Florida as easily as we could in Kentucky.  We had been planning this trip since June.  Moms and daughters.  We'll be fine, I said to myself.  We're going.  In the back of my mind, though, I had began to have my doubts.

As of today, San Francisco is on lockdown.  Spain has closed its borders.  So did France and Germany and Russia.  Malaysia went into lockdown.  It is not fine there.  All schools, non-essential government offices, restaurants, stores, and bars are closed.  No Malaysian can leave the country.  No foreigners can come in.  Good thing they didn't go to Vietnam.  Macey may be sent home. Kyle will have to find his way back too.  They don't know what will happen.

Today, UK sent another email saying all the dorms are being closed and all students have to be out of the dorms by March 27. Claire is heading home from Georgia tomorrow, but she is a 12 mile hike away from the ferry that will bring her to the mainland where they will then have a 10 hour drive to Lexington.

The beaches in Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, and Seaside, Florida all closed.  Everyone then flocked to Clearwater, where we were headed.  The moms and I felt like that will be next.  We also felt like it just wouldn't be smart to take off for Florida for a week during a pandemic.  We cancelled our spring break plans.

Looking ahead, we have been told that this could last 8 weeks, 3 months, until the end of the calendar year.  Who knows?  Emily was supposed to start rehearsal for Mama Mia at Center Stage, the place where she's been trying to get a role for years.  Rehearsal has been postponed.  We were supposed to go to NKU and ASPU one more time each and see a show and talk to professors and sit in on classes so she could make her final decision.  That's off the table.  The Pink and White Game in April will most probably be cancelled.  Brendan was going to dance.  Emily was going to sing the National Anthem.  We will miss the senior breakfast, the Mother-Daughter Mass and Brunch, Awards Day, Baccalaureate Mass, Graduation.

It was going to be hard enough to let her go, and I was going to savor every single last.  This was not how senior year was supposed to end.

I know it could be worse.  I know.  But this is my worse.  I am trying hard to maintain normalcy, to act like I'm not freaking out inside, to prepare for the worst while the whole time pretending like it's not that bad.  Kirk said I'm his rock.  I told him it's paper mache. 

I'm so sad about Emily.  I'm worried about Kyle.  I am anxious about Claire.  We may yet end up with a curfew, confined to our small square of the world for weeks or months.  The stock market is crashing. This is just getting started.

Who's making fun of me now?

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