Home

Is it Sunday? Yes, it is definitely Sunday. For the 4,968th day I sit here in my pajamas/loungewear/elasticized outfit from my home. I have gotten through the toilet paper shortages thank goodness. That was not funny to someone with IBD. My caring husband may or may not have purchased some public restroom emergency tp which is the like of a 3 foot wide roll of fine sandpaper. What can I say, he loves me.

‘Home’ is something that has much more meaning than ever before now that we all sit here inside the walls, both physically and metaphorically. Home is usually a place of comfort. Home is where we go when we need to rest and refuel. When we need to remember our roots, who we are deep down. But now home is much more. It now has to fulfill all of our emotional needs, interpersonal connections, humor relief, travel urges, creativity inspiration and the basic necessities for which it was created. That is a ton of pressure to put on 2, 3, 6, 8 people that are in your home. As my family goes through the daily ups and downs of being in quarantine, I have realized that we need to be extra patient with ourselves. We are now trying do the work of all the outside forces in each of our lives. That is a lot to expect that we can fill the void left when the world around us is closed indefinitely. We have decided that in our family, Friday seems to be the day when we usually say “I am sick of your face, goodbye” and retreat to separate corners for awhile. Our once harmonious nightly viewing of Tiger King has become more of daily weighing of pros and cons of starting a new series. Can we as a family, commit to watching The Sopranos? So far we are doing it. Dave has titled it Fuggedabout COVID Happy Hour.

But…and this is a large BUT…with all of the challenges we are facing right now, home has also proven to be the place of magic like we always knew it was. We are so lucky to have our daughter home again for the past couple months after campus shut down. We get to see our son everyday instead of him going to school and finishing up his senior year. Firsthand, we can witness the waves that come with my husband’s job as he works from home. The thrill of victory when he makes a sale and the agony of defeat when he doesn’t. My family sees me try and construct meaningful videos of me singing to the dog for Google Classroom for the little faces I miss so much at nursery school. We get to cook together, laugh together, argue together, dance together and cry together. Those are the beautiful moments. The ones I will try and remember next Friday when I say “I don’t want to see your face, goodbye” and go to my own corner.