I am immersed in a blast from the past delight, watching the 1982 classic, ET-The Extraterrestrial as Elliot teaches his new friend about the intricacies of life on Earth. He introduces him to Pez and Boba Fett and brings him a sandwich, coke and chips as ET huddles in the closet among the stuffed animals, blending in so his distracted and somewhat oblivious mother can’t see him. It is the balm I need at the moment, reminding me of simpler times when the world didn’t seem so overwhelmingly out of control. I had just graduated from college in 1981 and despite a degree in Psychology, I was working waiting tables, lifeguarding, doing massage, being a practice patient at a hospital and sitting as an artist’s model. When I look back on those years which led to returning to grad school to earn an MSW (Master of Social Work, but I refer to it as Master at Saving the World), I realize that they were preparing me for my present day.
I had no clue that 40 years later, we would be living on a planet in which a virus was decimating millions of people, a brutal dictator had declared war on a neighboring country that had much of the rest of the world doing everything they could to defend the beleaguered people, short of taking up arms, so as to avoid a nuclear conflagration, supermarkets, schools, houses of worship, and streets would become killing grounds and a former reality tv star who won the electoral college vote and not the popular vote terrorized the United States both in office and even now, since being soundly defeated, he continues to insist that he won, inciting an Insurrection that nearly overthrew democracy. I know it is a run on sentence, but that’s what the past few years have felt like. It has been a whirlwind that has swept me up in its tornadic winds.
“So, round and around and around we go, where the world’s headed, nobody knows,” this ball of confusion on which we live.
I still wear many professional hats all these decades later; as a therapist, journalist, interfaith minister, author, speaker, and PR person. Each of them puts me in touch with people in pain. I do what I can to stay grounded, but it ain’t easy. When the pandemic began in early 2020, I was a delighted new grandmother of a grandson for whom I was determined to help create a better world than the one into which he was born. A few months later, I spent 11 weeks ‘visiting’ him via Facetime and sending him videos where I sang songs and recited nursery rhymes, since I wanted to continue the bond we had created ‘in the before times’. I had mistakenly believed that the quarantine would last a few weeks…tops. What did I know?
Once my son, daughter in law and I realized that I was likely not a risk to Dean, we reunited. In the two years that followed, we did everything we could to avoid contracting COVID. We were all double vaxxed and I was double boosted. We wore masks indoors and steered clear of crowds. Guess what? It caught up with us anyway at what seemed like the most inopportune time; when my daughter in law was about to give birth to my granddaughter. The good news (I always try to find the upside to everything) was that we all got it at the same time, so I didn’t need to isolate from them and that by the time Lucy was born, this past May, my son was able to be present for her arrival. The symptoms were mild and with a five day dose of Paxlovid, I felt good as new with no residual side effects. I primarily work from home which has been an additional blessing.
I have gotten accustomed to being in my colorful and eclectically decorated nest and treasure time by myself. This social butterfly has folded her wings for the foreseeable future. I spend time with a small circle of friends rather than the multitudes that I used to surround myself with at parties, concerts and workshops. I do attend rallies, vigils and protests that focus on peace and social justice. I sometimes feel numb since I can’t take it all in. It manifests as increased memory issues and word finding difficulties which is anathema to someone in my professions. Thank goodness for a handy dandy thesaurus. It shows up as anxiety that, blessedly responds well to prayer, meditation, as well as baby and toddler cuddles. It raises self doubt. I question where my path will take me. I want to be around to see my grandchildren grow up and yet, am haunted by dystopic fears.
I know that previous generations have faced worse. My dear friend Yvonne Kaye is what she calls “a child of war,” having survived the Blitzkrieg in London during WWII. For a few years, she carried around a kid sized gas mask to don at a moment’s notice. When the air raid sirens wailed, she had to take cover. On June 10th, I heard an interview on Fresh Air with Julie Andrews who told similar stories. She could discern the difference between the sounds of German planes and British planes and it was her job as a child to alert her neighborhood if the former were overhead. Both of these remarkable women are now octogenarians and their resilience assures me that life events like that can indeed be life sustaining, since it provided them with survival skills.
When I doubt that I have the resiliency skills to take on the world, I think back to my ancestors who crossed the ocean after fleeing Russia during the pogrom and created a new life in America. Daily, I talk to the generations that got born so I could and so my grandchildren could and all the generations that will follow. I do my best to stay grounded and keep my balance.
“Swear the most excellent promise you can make.” That is a line that was uttered in ET. I swear it, that I will do all I can to remember who I am and what I was born to do.
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