Well, the stores have toilet paper again, people are going around with masks, and I’ve been attempting to help my kids with their school work at home. I’m not much of a stay-at-home-mom and I feel pretty rusty with my elementary and middle school lessons. I’m struggling, but, getting my footing. Some aspects of the teacher never go away. It’s a lot of work…

… and I’m exhausted.

Then I get the news…

My brother, an RN and Lieutenant Colonel in the Army Reserve, was called into active duty, setting up mobile army hospitals during our global pandemic. 

Think M*A*S*H with tiny “coronabombs” instead of massive exploding shells.

I’m so proud of him. He’ll be a great leader.

AND I’m worried.

In spite of everything, I know I’m no good to anyone if I don’t take care of myself. I try to get good sleep and get up at a regular time. I eat well, exercise, take my vitamins, take the infernal but necessary medications, and I get out in the garden. I’m reading and writing every chance I get.

I don’t always do these things in any particular order. Scheduling and routine has always been hard for me.

But, my time with my boys has been precious, a time of great spiritual and emotional healing.  As exhausted as I am most days (as many of us are while coping with COVID-19 quarantine), I am just as often enormously grateful for all the time I have staying at home. I am so fortunate to be able to continue working from home. I have lots of good books and I have my mother-in-law’s garden to tend.

Thank goodness.

While sheltering in place, we were having our favorite taco dinner and laughing about the squirrels on the roof, when my 15-year-old son asked me how I was handling the “coronapocalypse.”

After I had a good laugh at the name he offered, I shared with him some of my feelings, and my hope that we will use this time to envision the next chapter of our lives. I expressed how sad I was about how tough this is for everyone. I told him I’m grateful that we were safe, well supplied, and basically very healthy.

I went to my bedroom and brought back to the dinner table a prayer I had written when we first went into our “Shelter at Home” orders.


Prayer for the People

May we comfort ourselves and others. 

May we find peace in the passing of members of our global family.

May we be compassionate beyond measure.

May we insist on doing what is right.

I pray that our ancestors will be proud of our actions.

May we listen carefully to the elders and the children.

May we feed those who are hungry.

May we teach all people to love learning.

May we keep calling for help when we need it.

May we accept the help we are offered.

May we protect our health.

May we protect the health of our communities.

May we value and honor all life.

May we remember that life is short.

May we will all go to a better place when we are called to the next life.

May we make this world a better place while we are here.

May we accept our divinity.

May we accept our humanity.

I pray that I know Divine will, not just mine.

I pray for forgiveness.

I pray I can forgive.

I pray we can share our truth with kindness.

 I give thanks to the Divine for all our blessings, in every form they are offered.


“Wow, Mom, that’s a lot,” said the 15-year-old, as nonchalantly as he could. He tossed his rather long hair to the side and added, “But it’s nice.”