Hello, Dear Readers. Long time no see. It’s been a little over a year (and two months) since I stopped sending Letter From Elba and I never thought I’d be writing to all of you in this way again.
But you might notice two boxes of my “new BFF’s” pictured above. Disposable gloves. I never thought I’d be wearing them just to get my mail, either.
But we now live in a brave new world of viruses and new terms like “social distancing” and “shelter in place.” A world I could never have imagined even two months ago. So I thought I’d drop by your email box and check in with you.
And on you.
Chicago, as I am sure you know, has ordered all of us to stay home starting tonight at five p.m. I’ve been ahead of the curve on this. This is Day 12 of my self-imposed isolation. No, I am not sick. (Yet. Thank God.) I’ve just heard the horror stories from my kids and thought I’d get a drop on this damn thing.
My son Nick, as you may recall, lives in Seattle. Well, instead of thinking “Space Needle” or “Starbucks” or “Amazon,” sadly whenever Seattle is mentioned now, it’s hard not to think of it as the place where COVID-19 really took off in the United States.
Nick has been working from home for almost a month now. He’s sheltered in place with his wife, Missy, my two and half year old grandson Hendrix and their very noisy Bluetick Coonhound Lucy. She’s very loud.
That was not Lucy. But she sounds EXACTLY like this.
Inside the house.
He says the whole thing is like being under siege.
Luckily, when he does get a chance to go outside, he gets to see this.
I hear from him almost every day now. Facetiming me, sending me photos and videos of Hendrix Highjinks. Every Corona cloud has a silver lining, I guess.
I wish him- and everyone in Washington State on the front lines of this awful battle- God speed.
My daughter Natasha lives on the opposite end on the country- outside of Boston. Yet, she and her family have also found themselves right in the thick of the pandemic.
Here’s why. (This was taken from The Boston Globe. It was updated on March 14.)
A leadership meeting of the biotech firm Biogen late last month is the apparent source of the lion’s share of confirmed coronavirus infections in Massachusetts.
The Marriott Long Wharf was the site of a leadership conference on Feb. 26 and 27 that drew an international roster of executives from the Cambridge-based biotech firm Biogen.
The virus spread rapidly among conference attendees, but we don’t know how the virus initially got there. The conference was attended by Biogen employees from around the country and the world, but whether the initial infection was carried in from an individual or multiple people, from overseas or within the United States, has not yet been revealed.
…Well, that was only the beginning. When I spoke with my daughter two days ago, there were more cases of Corona Virus in her small town than in ALL of Illinois combined.
That’s why my brother Kenny sent her these.
Natasha was thrilled. She texted us, “Of all the presents I’ve received in my life, this one ranks near the top. Thank you!!”
(And remember, she got a pony when she was eleven.)
She now drives around with them in her car and wipes off her credit card before she hands it over and after they hand it back to her when she goes to pick up anything from a store.
Natasha is a first grade teacher with twenty years of experience under her belt. And thus my grandchildren, Sam five and Carly age three, were in for some truly professional home schooling. Natasha broke out her materials and easels and blackboards and educational games and plunged in with a gung ho professional learning schedule.
That was Day One.
By Day Five, the discipline had broken down a bit.
Natasha reported that Sam was only wearing pajamas all day long and now Carly was wearing his clothes.
They were both watching tons of verboten tv and going to the previously banned McDonald’s drive thru because it was the only game in town.
And because Natasha’s father-in-law is an internist who went to video-conferencing with his patients weeks ago, now, instead of fun playdates with Poppy and Mimi, she does drive-bys so the kids could wave to their Boston grandparents through the car windows.
I just cancelled a long-anticipated trip out there in April. I’m sad.
But Natasha is terrified that I’ll get sick on the plane.
And Zach, her husband, is terrified that I’ll get quarantined with them.
Discipline has broken down at my house, too.
The first few days, I dieted, exercised and read fabulous books.
Now, I’m eating three day old cold pizza directly from the box, and instead of Jane Austin or T. H. White, I just excitedly read that Taylor Swift was telling the truth all the way along about her feud with Kanye.
I’ve burned through everything on my iPad. I started out watching “The Forsyte Saga” and “Inspector Lewis” episodes on Youtube. Today I saw Kendall Jenner cheerleading on an “Ellen” clip.
I am officially lost.
On the bright side, I have made some new other friends in my solitude.
The good news is that I have become a whiz at Solitaire. The bad news is, at last count, there were fifty-two of these guys and I don’t think we’re supposed to congregate with more than ten now.
But there is another bright spot on my virus.
I’ve been wearing “COVID- Ready” hair now for years.
My own color- and as you can tell from the photo- I do it myself most weeks. Woe betide the gal nowadays who needs to get a little help with her color from a pro. Beauty shops are no longer considered “necessary businesses” in this new age of pestilence.
Maybe we should call it “The Blonde Death?”
I can’t help making fun, but believe me, Dear Readers, it’s like whistling when you pass a graveyard.
The situation is grave indeed and everywhere I turn, I’m surrounded with horror stories of lost wages and shuttered stores. I’ve heard first hand accounts from friends who think they may have it and didn’t even know. Some thought it was pneumonia or a really bad case of the flu.
But everywhere I turn, I also hear inspirational stories of sacrifice of doctors and nurses, of first responders and the brave people who clean my building and work at my grocery store.
They’ve shown great courage. It seems little enough to stay home and watch old episodes of “Inspector Morse.”
I’m praying like mad that we can stop this vicious thing.
Soon.
My thoughts and prayers go out to you, too. If you’ve got some time on your hands, let me know how you’re doing.
I miss you all and hopefully, the next time I send you another Letter, it will be to announce some good news.
Hang in there.
Love, Ellen
