Through it

I took 18 minutes to log in to anything this morning. My phone is gone and I have a new one which means I have nothing from my old phone because I do not know how to get my everything onto this phone. I know like 3 phone numbers In my memory. My old home phone from when I grew up and my aunts. And work. Plus remnants of everyone’s. I’ve mixed and matched numbers to try and get them to be the ones I want but they are always someone new. I don’t have any of my apps. Which was my bank, this one and the ones they give you and won’t let you delete to see the full screen picture on your thousand dollar glass box.

I wanted to make sure I kept writing daily in this format. Through all of this I’m writing through it so I can see my self through it and the see that I made it through it. Through it to the other side of fear. More fear. But, I had to login to get through it this morning. I had to remember my password for my email which is not accessible on the new device to retrieve the link to be retrieved and put into this place. I almost just hand wrote. I even started but it turned into a letter to my librarian whom I miss but don’t know. I just needed to write through it.

What is even worse is this was my mother’s phone. Just like my old one only in all of its pieces. It’s a more whole phone. She got an upgrade. She loves upgrades. Until she is all the way upgraded all of her things are on here but it is my number. Just nothing of mine. Not even my face works to make it work.

I’m overwhelmed with the amount of notifications she receives. She is bothered by things about every 2-11 minutes. Conversations, polish pottery updates, threads about dogs, lightning strikes nearby, news happening here and also all over the world, security breeches, death tolls, lost cats, more polish pottery bids, and finally, updates. It’s exhausting. I wonder if she doesn’t know how to not be notified. Or if she just wants to be. Why does she want to know so many things about so many other things? Maybe this is how she gets through things by being notified.

I have access to her Facebook page. I warned her. She didn’t care. She said just be nice. I posted a picture of the sunset with my dads church in the background as I was leaving work to her page. It was so not like me. I shared. I drove up that bridge looked over and saw the church, a tear formed in my eye. The sun all of a sudden made the sky glow like a fire burning through the clouds. The sunset got right through it. I had to pull over and see it. I pulled into a construction zone and just stopped. It took my breath away. I went around the corner to see it from the other bridge then back to the same bridge to see it again. I kept circling until it set. I chased the sunset. Then I got a picture for myself realizing it is not myselfs phone. So I shared it for my mom. From me to her. To help her through this.

Then I perused through her Non news feed. Just to see what it was like. It was like perusing through a non news feed. I was quickly bored and a little irritated I clicked on one to read what people said about something with masks and free speech….One lady said, “I bet they won’t think this is no big deal when there grandmother is breathing her last breaths on a vent alone in the hospital!” She even attached an angry face! What!?!? Is what I was thinking. Who in their right mind would wish this kind of thing for someone to imagine? Did it happen to her personally? And she hopes we all have to feel her pain? We all die alone. You don’t get to take people and things or stuffed animals with you. It’s your last breath all on your own. It’s the most afraid and brave anyone can be. Imagine that? It has nothing to do with anyone sitting with you ever. If or when this happens to my grandmother she will be ok. I will be ok. She has her faith and it leaks out onto me so I feel she will be ok. Like my dad is/was. I felt this lady’s pain. All the way through my sleep. She is angry. It said so. With the angry face.

I quickly Facebook stalked a business rival to see that they are still afraid and then I left everyone alone. I didn’t want to know anything about anyone. It was a fantastic test. I still do not need a Facebook account.

I am still afraid of people who are afraid of people, including themselves. It’s been weeks. I currently don’t have this virus and could have at some point but it’s so unlikely because of the amount of people who don’t have it around me. Which is everyone. If I had it I would think I would have been sharing it with the mailman, my grocer, Walgreens lady, my kids, my mother. Some people I don’t know who also get gas. I just don’t feel like a deadly person. I also don’t feel selfish. What I do feel is nervous of the people who think this of me who don’t know me. They think I’m selfish, unafraid and want to think of painful horrible ways my grandmother could die.

I am afraid of this virus. I wish a garden center full of people all covered in cute masks made me feel safe but a garden center full of people in cute masks is the most terrifying thing I can think of. That’s the image the posting lady should make me see. The one I have to see. The one I have to be part of. The one I’m living in. It’s terrifying enough. It’s gardening. It’s outdoors. It’s open space. It’s terrifying that I have people terrified of this. I don’t need help imagining terrifying things. I have to keep them at bay myself.

I wore my mask when I was in others space. Which wasn’t often. I am comfortable enough with the fact I don’t think I harbor dangerous viruses right now that I can wait a second to walk an area to water to keep distance. So I can breath. Then I panic breath through my mask until I nearly hyperventilate in my mind to be certain that others feel safe from me. It’s a small price to pay right now. I’m less whiny in my mind about it but clearly still a little whiny about it. I can breath through it. It’s harder but not impossible. I am in the end responsible for myself even with the rules laid out.

This virus is going to divide us even more. I see it in the people who work with me and now the people who don’t. The customer interactions have changed. Our business chose a path and is following it. Some did not. But so many have found us. It feels like a this side of fear and that side of fear. There is no no fear. We are all afraid of this and everything or something. It’s your through it that varies. The other side of fear is still fear. It’s how you get from this side to that one. Which is still afraid. Too many sides is what this is making. It’s very scary to get through.