I am very curious to see if the metaphor of this COVID 19 event as a marathon for which we have not trained resonates with everyone. So I am asking individuals in my circle, young and old, male and female, working and retired, from all walks of life this question:

“If this event filled with uncertainty and risk is a marathon we have to run but have not done the required training, how do you approach a race that you must run, need to complete and want to survive?”

I asked the question this morning to my ninety-year old neighbor with whom I share coffee every morning (more than six feet apart). He and I have observed this ritual since his wife’s Alzheimer’s worsened over the years and I could be an anchor in their mornings and evenings. In the past month our relationship has changed. He has requested me not to come into the house, no longer serves me coffee (I bring my own), has subsequently reneged, and now let’s me in to sit. He greets my two dogs and cat who join us as I share treats with my animals and his animals. (His dog Bailey would riot if my visits and treat times came to a halt.) And we share a companionable half hour.

We discuss what is in the headlines. I used to show him funny memes on my phone but he no longer wants me that close or to touch my phone.

He shares his concerns and worries; and informs me of his most recent planning decisions. This morning our conversation was about cremation.

We do find things to laugh about. He has a very dry and dark sense of humor. I do some shopping and surprise gifting to him and he surprises me back. We are sharing this experience and yet come from very different places.

He tolerates my ‘Sergeant Mary Poppins’ affect and I his dark, agnostic view of the world.

He can be counted on to be pragmatic and direct and his response to my question was quick and definitive.

He (who asked that his name not be used) stated, ‘It may end up being a marathon but so far it is just a pandemic.’ He did not relate to the metaphor – he is a very concrete thinker. But I pressed and asked if he could consider the metaphor and share how is he running this life race?

Again, with  focus and common sense, he replied:

“I am self- isolating. I wear a mask. I go out as little as possible. I walk my dog.”

And how do you keep yourself occupied, I asked?

He said, “I cook. I take care of the house. I watch B movies, read the paper, and listen to the news.”

And then his humor kicks in, ‘I take my I don’t give a shit pill each day.’ By bedtime, I don’t give a shit.

The only thing that I worry about is my wife. The worst case scenario is that she dies in the memory care unit from the virus. Her family will blame me. I am not up for the shit storm.’

My heart breaks just a little. We read the headlines from the New York Times about the trauma happening within nursing homes. I pull up the local new information about nursing homes in Cuyahoga County. His wife’s facility is not on the list. We both are grateful. And yet, saddened by the news of how the virus spreads so quickly in these types of facilities. It quiets our conversation and we discuss cremation further.

As I get up to leave to walk my dogs (and cat) on the shore of Lake Erie — a daily ritual that involves picking up beach glass and drift wood that keeps me grounded and sane — he stops my exit to add this:

He has also been worrying about who could care for his dog and cat if he becomes ill. I have reassured him that it will be me. He hesitates, because he does not want me to catch the virus from him. I press him to know that we will figure it out and I am his animal keeper. This morning he said, ‘You know, I will keep Buddha Bear for you if you become sick. And the cat. But not the little black French Bull Dog. He is too much for me.’ I smiled. This was a first offer of its kind and a very special gift. I told him that I appreciated this plan. And I could find a keeper for the exuberant young ‘Crook’.

I am loving all the many examples and stories of how people are ‘pulling together’ to help one another. It gives me a spring in my step to help me through the next mile of this marathon called COVID 19.

Leslie

PS. I have sought out seven of the many people whose opinions I value and asked them to answer the same question about the marathon we find ourselves in. The series of blogs will resume tomorrow and be completed on Friday. I hope you’ll find what these folks have to say to be interesting. And valuable.