Tuesday is my husband’s day off. We usually do something interesting. We go on a hike or to a museum, then grab a cup of coffee at a nice cafe. Today, and the past few Tuesdays, and all the Tuesdays to come until, G-d willing, the Coronavirus takes its leave, we are home.
This morning, I made us lattes, while he prepared traditional Croatian hot limunada for the vitamin C. We listened to our respective Daf Yomi podcasts and will find something to watch on Netflix tonight, maybe The Plot against America. In between, I’m disinfecting and laundering and getting some work done, if only what my distracted mind will allow. He’s reading and talking to medical colleagues, rabbis, and patients, learning the language of this illness while figuring out how to convey unconditionally the vital role our communities and each of us as individuals play in stanching it. All the while, I’m trying to forget that he and so many other medical professionals will return to work in the morning.
Please, if you don’t absolutely need to go out, stay home. Wash your hands. Have your groceries delivered. Get fresh air in the privacy of your own backyards or on your separate porches. Be a support to one another, for the anxiety many of us are dealing with — from fear of the illness to the angst of being cooped up at home — is a force all its own.
Did I already say stay at home?
Pray the way you would usually talk to G-d. Just do it alone.
Learn online with your chevrusa.
Read that long book you’ve always wanted to read, but never found the time for.
Finally organize your kids’ baby pictures.
Spread kindness as much as you can from wherever you’re holed up.
Call a neighbor.
Remember a neck or a polkie look great on a seder plate; don’t take risks to track down a shank bone.
Love your loved ones, those far away and the ones you’re lucky to have in sight.
Make lattes and limunada.
Dream of better things to come.
Stay safe. Stay healthy. Stay home.