Covid-Living: One Unique Response

Covid-Living: One Unique Response

It’s been an unusual week, one filled with confusing interpretations of the “relaxed” stay-at-home directives. Our unified shock at this deadly virus has splintered into diverse responses.

But one sentence has helped me stay grounded and focused. It comes from a card sent to me by my sweet sissy, Rachel.

In it, she writes:

 I know this is a difficult time for all of us, but I am so proud of all you are doing to stay healthy.
I know this is a difficult time for all of us, but I am so proud of all you are doing to stay healthy.

I’m not sure why, but that sentence lifted my spirits and continues to warm my heart in a special way. It feels like a big hug, something I haven’t had in 71 days. Her words wrap around me, my circumstance, my choices, and make me feel acknowledged and affirmed.

She noticed all the effort I was putting into staying healthy and took the time to tell me.

Yet, the effort to stay healthy is changing for many of us. I’ve talked at length to family and friends in Wisconsin, New York, New Jersey, Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, and Florida, all with differing definitions of what staying healthy means. When I compared the extremes to my self-imposed limitations, I started to get frustrated, even annoyed at what I consider risky behaviors.

Rachel’s words helped, refocusing my mind back to what I could control. She was proud of me for what I am doing to stay healthy.

Although global, this pandemic is highly personal. Its effect on us depends on who we are, our underlying health conditions, who we live with, where we work, and sometimes, even the county where we reside.

We all are defining and redefining good self-care in the midst of changing circumstances.

As many of you know, I’ve been uncluttering and reorganizing my home for over a year. Last week I discovered this gem that belonged to my father. It sums up our predicament:

Play it where it lies.

Play it where it lies.

Isn’t that the truth? Aren’t we all trying to play that little white ball that we call life, where it lies?

Encouragement helps. In one sentence, my sister found a way to acknowledge the hard work and discipline it takes for me to stay healthy.

Yet, although affirmation from others is important, what may be more important is finding a way to affirm ourselves. We, more than anyone else, know our unique challenges and personal successes. Sometimes we have to give ourselves credit, even for the small things.

For me, it includes:

  • Drinking 100 ounces of water per day, beginning with a mug of hot lemon water (before I caffeinate!)
  • Taking my medications, vitamins, and supplements at a regular time.
  • Sticking to a strict schedule for caring for my paralyzed parts.
  • And yes, restricting physical contact with anyone.

Think about your situation. What small actions have you taken to keep healthy in these days of Covid–living? Have you given yourself credit? It may be time to say each one out loud, give yourself a hug, and take a bow.

I’m sure you deserve it.

These are tough times. It’s okay to acknowledge and celebrate our small successes. And while we’re taking inventory, maybe we all should be a bit more like Rachel and acknowledge others’ successes as well.

Life is hard. Encouragement can soften the journey.

As William Arthur Ward, American author, scholar and teacher reminds us:

Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you.

Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you.

Maybe we should strive to be “unforgettable” as we look for the best in ourselves and in others, too.

Stay safe. Stay strong. Stay healthy. And keep “playing it” where it lies.

And on we go…

My best – always,

Becky  (Nana B)

P.S. Grateful for these recent photos of Madison, my 28-year-old daughter with autism, and the great care she receives at her residence. Thanks for your thoughts and prayers for her. I can’t wait to give her a hug!

My 28-year-old daughter with autism, and the great care she receives at her residence.

P.P.S. Found another good prayer to share. From the deep archives: 1979! Thanks Dad.

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