It certainly feels as if March lasted longer than a month. Or, at the very least, it is the first month in a very long time to feel as if its movements were measured in dog years. Congratulations, if you are alive, awake, and able to read this, then you survived it. April is now three days old. Welcome. Enjoy.
I think of my mother every day, particularly so on the 3rd of every month. She died thirty-four months ago today. Thinking of Mom is especially helpful to me these days, when the fabric of everything we once considered normal has not simply been torn but shredded.
Way back when in the summer of 1981, the months felt quite a lot as March, 2020 felt. The days were endless. The nights were worse. WPK, Sr. died on May 31, 1981 and I did what can fairly be called a zombie walk through the entire summer. Many times, I wondered whether I would get through a day - or a night.
I made it through every day. I made it through every night. I made it through because Mom refused to let me fail. She, herself, refused to fail. It was from her during the longest summer of my life that I learned how to "win today". But for Mom having imparted that wisdom to me when I was fourteen, I would considerably more freaked out - at fifty-three - than I am by all that is afoot these days.
Thanks, Mom.
-AK
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