Just Jim Dandy

Our nightly routine includes dinner with David Muir, Pat Sajak, and Alex Trebek. Just when we think we can take no more doom and gloom from the solemnly yet handsomely delivered world news by David, Pat and Alex come in for the win with word puzzles and trivia. While the kitchen is cleaned up, I yell out things like “What is amyloidosis?! Who is Shakira?! What is ramadan?!” and my Mom tells me that my Holy Cross education is paying off. Yes, yes it is. Our exposure to the television habits of older Americans reached a new level this week when I walked into the living room and heard my nine-year-old say “Like SANDS through the hourglass, SOOO are the DAYS of OUR liiiives.” I won’t be the least bit surprised if he starts talking about Marlena and Stefano. Stefano, by the way, has come back to life in Steve’s body and is using some kind of mind control on Marlena. And poor Marlena. At this point she probably just wants to live happily ever after with minimal lines to memorize.

This global pandemic is really putting a damper on things for my parents. The last time my Mom went out to a store was two weeks ago today. She insisted upon going and I was powerless against her will, I really was. Her love of shopping, be it for a new tablecloth or kidney beans, is unparalleled. Although the necessity of isolation has been accepted, the first signs of cracking appeared the other night when she blurted out “I’m telling you. I might be desperate enough to set my alarm clock for 6 am just so I can go to the senior citizen shopping hour at Shaw’s.” She’s not an early riser so I knew it was an empty threat. Another week of this? I’ll have to keep my eyes and ears open in the early morning hours.

I feel bad for my Mom, I really do. Shopping and socializing is what she lives for. She hates this virus for taking her away from Homegoods. If you ask her how she’s doing, she will most definitely say “Oh, just Jim Dandy” which is the 85-year-old version of the smiling poop emoji. I have no idea who or what Jim Dandy is but I’ve decided to make him a proper noun. My Dad, on the other hand, is perfectly happy to exist in semi-isolation. In fact, I think he’s barely noticed a change at all except for the fact that I take his temperature daily and the kids are here ALL.THE.TIME. I love my kids but I am NOT cut out to be their homeschool teacher. They are meant for the system, the system works for them. The system must return, it must.

So, yes, I am the only one in my house that has entered a public building over the past two weeks and it’s really starting to show. No one knows what day it is, my dog wanders around the house in a constant state of confusion, and the kids think homeschool “sucks”. Yes, yes it does. The coronavirus has really tested the capabilities of this bus I’m driving and I’ll admit that I have landed in the breakdown lane a couple times. Then I think of friends and family on the frontline in the medical field, find my breath, get back on the road, and stay in my lane. That’s all I can do and it’s all you can do too.

When you find yourself feeling a little overwhelmed by this creeping crud going around, pull over for a minute and think about what you can do within your lane and do that. That might mean taking a walk, doing some yoga, eating Carvel ice cream cake for breakfast (totally fine), watching Days of Our Lives, or allowing your kids to play Xbox way, way more than they usually do. We humans are all doing the best we can with what we got within our lanes. Do what you need to do to survive this creeping crud intact, you have my support. I got this, you got this, we got this. When all this is over, we will gather together, raise a glass to the scientists who created the vaccine, and hug one another a little tighter. Until then, we’ll be just Jim Dandy.