Maria Scott Herndon: Fabric Of Being

So this is week…four (I think?) of self-isolation. The days blend in together. I watch the news to see when this will all pass but there are no clear answers. Lately, a small part of me fears that we won’t ever go back to “normal” again or we'll forget what normal is. But when you think about it, isn't that life anyway? Life keeps moving along changing everything. It's just in these strange days, everything is more stark. But actually, that can help us see everything more clearly as to what our choices are...of who we want to be in all this. There is no mistaking that this pandemic, our political polarization, and even climate change exhibited in near biblical proportions, has re-prioritized everything in each of our lives. As for me, this last month has been wonderful therapy. Before this pandemic I rarely left the house. Part of that was due to being broke but truth be told, a lot of it was depression. Now, the weird thing is it's as if all of you are along...

It killed her slowly and painfully. Schwannomatosis; Pretty fancy word. Just like my sister, it's extremely rare and never let's you forget it's presence. Her illness was characterized by multiple tumors on nerves throughout her body. She was in extreme intense pain all the time. My sister was not defined by this war on her body for which she did not enlist. All the years since, she pushed all that ever knew her out of her life. Sadly, her pain and lack of the ability to really connect deeply with anyone left her angry and bitter. People say that “she's in a better place”. I hope that's true. Grief registers as experience. When Death slammed the door with my big sister in tow, internally I beg for another look; beating against the gate for another twinkle I can cherish forever. I am living each day again and again with all the words I should have said. Against my consent, my grief is woven within a global pandemic panic. We are all grieving fo...

Week after week, we are all finding our way through this crisis. This is so disorienting because we are experiencing a normal life and not normal life at the same time. I am still in my house. I still have a lot of my usual routine and day to day stuff. But at the same time, everything is different. It’s hard to experience both at the same time and there is no way that we could have prepared for this.  When I was a kid, I often heard my grandmother talk about the Great Depression. She told me she and my grandfather would always make sandwiches for the people who knocked on their door, asking for help. She said they didn’t have any money to spare, but that they could make sure that no one went away hungry. Listening to those stories shaped how I understood my grandmother. I grew up knowing that her and my grandfather were grateful for what they had, and willing to share with others in need. But I’m sure they had their moments of worry, fear and frustration as they li...