Reflections from Isolation

Several times a day my mother puts a bowl of food on the back porch for me to retrieve. Sometimes she alerts me with a text, other times with a shout. Today we both happen to be outside, embracing the sun instead of sulking in a swarm of depressing headlines.

We’re more than six feet apart, trying to keep with the C.D.C.’s guidelines on social distancing. Like many others, I’m isolated from my family for two weeks to ensure I don’t have any symptoms.

“We’re having an early lunch,” she says.“Want some wine?” It’s noon so normally I wouldn’t imbibe, but considering I’m locked in the basement, why not?

My mom goes inside to grab a bottle and two glasses. When she returns, my wandering pace has drawn me much closer to the back porch than before. A stern expression takes over her eyes as if to say, get away, you know better. And, of course, I do know better — I’m just bored and turning to silly self-sabotaging games to have some fun.

She begins to pour and stops way too soon. “C’mon, fill it up, we’re in quarantine and the economy is plummeting for god’s sake.” My mom chuckles and in agreement continues to fill the cup. “Just stay put until I go back inside,” she says. The door slams shut; I fetch the meal and scurry back to my quarters.

When I get back inside, a text is waiting: “How much longer can we live like this?”

It’s a question so many of us are asking as we begin a third week of staying inside. I’m sure that as time passes, we will…