Sunday, September 27, 2020

The Building Blocks of Healthy Lives

 

Beatrice opened the sliding glass door and stared at me. My eyes met hers.

"Dad, can we play Hedbanz now? Everyone's on their devices," she said over all the adults socializing outside. 

"Yes, we can," I answered. "Tell all the kids to come out now." 

"Bring the game out, too," Mom shouted at Beatrice. 

Hedbanz is a fun guessing game where you wear a plastic headband with a slot in the front where a card is then placed. Each card has a word on it like "lion". Then, teammates give you clues to guess what the word is. 

This was part of Bea's birthday party plans, her agenda, she had set up prior to getting together with our pod. "Pod" being that pandemic term referring to a small group of families we feel covid-safe around, promising to limit interaction with others as much as possible to reduce the spread risk. 

Bea's birthday agenda had clear and specific activities -- and boundaries. The activities were inclusive for her and her friends, and for all the adults in the room. The boundaries included limiting the time spent on devices like computers, iPads, phones, etc. Which is great with us, since we're constantly setting boundaries how much time spent on devices at home. Which is super tough day to day due to the fact that the girls' school is all distance learning right now with lots of device time. 

Boundary setting is also so important in life, and for kids to learn especially. To be very clear as to what's okay to them, what they agree to do, what they don't want to do, how adults talk to them and how they talk to each other, what's safe for all involved, and what's okay with the adults in charge.

Boundaries are a critically healthy part of anyone's life and help keep us all emotionally and physically safe. They go beyond requesting friends to limit their device play. They also keep us safe when feelings are compromised, when physical touch is involved, and when there are those crossing boundaries who say "don't tell; this is a secret." Kidpower has some great boundary and consent checklist posters you can download and that we live by. My wife works for Kidpower and we've both been involved with the organization for many years. The organization is a global nonprofit dedicated to working together to build cultures of caring, respect, and safety for everyone, everywhere.

During Hedbanz, it was the kids versus adults and the competition was fierce. The final score was close -- the kids won by a point or two, but who was counting? Shortly after that and all the other Bea agenda items, Dad was all done. Tired from the previous week's workload, I was ready to go home and get ready for night-night, and so I was clear with my "all done" boundary. We said our goodbyes and were on our way. 

For both our girls to be able to be specific and clear about their boundaries is an important rite of passage for the coming teenage years and adulthood. Boundaries are the building blocks of healthy lives, inclusive and caring, and another way to keep our #BhivePower safely energized.


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, September 20, 2020

The Part Where All Lives Matter

The meme is militant. It's angry. It's resentful. It's disrespectful. It's patriarchal and patronizing. And so many people love it. Probably because it represents how so many people feel about their own lives growing up and the next generation's fighting against this norm. It echos that sheriff's sentiment about how we've grown into a mouthy, mobile phone wielding, vulgar, uncivil society.

The Roman Empire talked about their younger generations this way (sans the cell phones, of course). Many societies throughout history have. Americans have talked this way about their younger generations since, well, the beginning. Closer to home for those of us alive for the past 50+ years, we did the same thing in the 1960's. And the 1970's. And the 1980's. And the 1990's. And the 2000's. 

And today. The meme I'm referring to is supposed to be shared in the "classroom", in-person or virtual I assume, although the intention is much broader than that. It includes these bits of brutal patriarchal wisdom:

  • Being told "no" is part of life. Get over it.
  • Life is not fair.
  • You are not the boss.
  • The world does not revolve around you. 
  • The world owes you nothing. Work for it.
  • You put yourself here. You need to fix you.

This isn't the entire list either. I admit, I've repeated shades of some of these things to our daughters, just not this exact verbiage. My wife and I really try not to say these things in these ways, because they don't account for our daughter's emotional well-being, or ours for that matter. 

Yes, emotional well-being. It's how we can manage the day-to-day onslaught of life, especially this year with the pandemic, the economic devastation, the layoffs and furloughs, distance learning for our kids, the social and racial inequity injustice, fires and hurricanes and more. Granted, the perception of fairness in life is subjective, and there are those who have the proverbial cards stacked against them more than others. No matter what, though, we need to focus on our emotional well-being, and help our children do the same. To empathize with others. To learn how to be personal responsible for our behavior and to be safe in all our relationships. Everyone should be entitled to these.

Why would we want to continue to say the above things to our children, though? At any age? What exactly does that accomplish? Why do we continue to equate shaming, fear and loathing to positive discipline? They couldn't be farther apart in what they actually address and how they impact kids and adults. Positive discipline is how we teach our children important social and life skills that encourages mutual respect for every life stage. Not saying "get over it" because "life isn't fair." That's bullshit and sustains the hate cycle we certainly are rapidly spinning out of control in today. 

And by the way, what if your child is bullied, harassed or sexually assaulted? 

You put yourself here. You need to fix you. 

Mercy me, if my parents would have treated me this way with all the things I went through, who knows what kind of shape I'd be in today. I don't think I'd be married to my lovely wife or have two amazing daughters, that's for sure. I probably would've ended up like Jerry, my birth father, an abusive, womanizing alcoholic. Thankfully my parents didn't, and I didn't either. 

We also keep confusing entitlement with coming of age in today's highly judgmental and polarized culture, trying desperately to understand what's right and wrong and questioning the status quo when it adversely affects ourselves and others in our society. We shame little boys for wearing masks and we still shame little girls from speaking up -- and by God, our girls will always speak up. We shame people who peacefully protest injustice and intolerance. We boo people of all colors linking arms at a football during a moment of unity the night before the anniversary of 9/11. Jesus Christ, what have we become?

Now, if the above statements are really talking about trouble-makers and law breakers of yesterday, today and tomorrow, I would still say they're brutal and unnecessary. I certainly don't approve or excuse lawless destruction we're seeing today, but now I know better than ever why the "the world does not revolve around you" sentiment is still so prolific. 

We think of our societal problems through such a limiting biased lens. Through extremes played out in politics, the news media and social media memes. But our biases are driven by so many more every day moments; it's about the everyday indignities we experience, and the ones we unabashedly pummel others with. That is something Leeno Karumanchery, PhD, one of the speakers we had at my organization's last virtual conference, shared with the attendees in the context of how racism and sexism are perpetuated. 

But it actually applies to all things and all lives and I just can't get it our of my head. Because it's so true, and these things we continue to say to each other, to our children, the shaming and belittling have made it nearly incapable for us to come together on anything. 

This morning when my wife and I meditated, the mantra was I am compassion -- Karuna Hum. The centering thought was, when I have no judgment, I see everyone with kindness. Ephesians 4:32 says, Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.

This is the part where all lives matter. Where all of us can learn empathy and compassion for one another, to really listen and understand the everyday indignities we experience and perpetuate. So that we may undo these indignities, one at a time, and our children will learn in kind. Supreme Court Justice, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who passed away last week, had said, "Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time."

Amen. Here we go. 


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, September 13, 2020

The Clarity Bridge for Homelessness

We couldn't look away from the still smoldering burned out trailer camper. It was just outside of the city limits on Highway 1, and mask-wearing fire crews had surrounded it and were spraying it down with frothy fire retardant. 

"Homeless," I said.

"Yes, I'm sure," my wife Amy said. "I hope they got out."

"I know, although I don't see an ambulance or another vehicle that would've been towing it, so I'll bet they got out."

We have our own camper now, I thought. Scary.

We continued with our morning walk down the bike path to Wilder Ranch State Park, where just north of the park was the southern end of the CZU August Lightning Complex fires, the ones we nearly had to evacuate from in Santa Cruz. The ones that thousands did have to evacuate from. 

Over 900 homes were destroyed in these fires -- and there continue to be fires burning everywhere along the West Coast from Washington to Oregon to Southern California. These combined with the impact of COVID-19 on our economy and too many people out of work and renters nearing eviction, and the complexity of people experiencing homelessness may increase dramatically. The lack of affordable housing, social and economic inequity, mental health and substance abuse problems only exacerbate a problem that's not new to the Bay Area and many other communities through the U.S. 

During the Great Recession just over 10 years ago, we nearly walked away from our home before being forced into foreclosure having sporadic income at the time and being underwater with our mortgage. We had a newborn and a two-year-old and very little savings. The fear of not having a home for our family weighed heavily on us. We fortunately didn't lose our home and were able to make it work. 

According to the 2019 Santa Cruz County Homeless Census & Survey Comprehensive Report, a survey that's done every two years, there were 122 families with 419 individuals experiencing homelessness more recently (19% of the total homeless population). Slightly more than half (53%) were living unsheltered. Who knows where that number is now -- or where it might be in the next six months. 

We have a trailer camper now and it was ready to go when we thought we had to evacuate due to the fires. We also had multiple friends and family who said we could park it in front of their homes indefinitely if we needed to. We've learned a lot about camping in an RV, living in an RV at least for a few days at a time, and based on our own life experience, I can imagine having to live out of one for who knows how long. And wouldn't want to have to do that. What if our home had burned down? What if we lost our jobs and couldn't pay our bills anymore? So many what if's. 

And our daughters ask us "why are those people living there?", those people experiencing homelessness living in tents and RV's throughout our city and on the edges of the city, and the answers aren't easy to give. Many don't have a choice because they can't afford rent, although some choose to live this way. Plus, there aren't enough homeless shelters available in the city, there aren't any sanctioned and supervised safe parking/camping areas, there are those suffering from mental and emotional problems, addiction, just to name a few. 

Where we live there's a growing RV/tent encampment across the highway from us, still within city limits, but technically under the purview of Caltrans. Just a year and a half ago our city was grappling with short and long-term solutions on how to deal with this growing complex crisis where we live and elsewhere, with city staff researching successful communities dealing with their own homeless crises. At the time, we were also not supportive of any "safe sleeping areas" near us or anywhere in the city. 

According to our city website, The city of Santa Cruz invests millions of dollars each year in a combination of homeless services and reacting and responding to the externalities of homelessness. From law enforcement interventions for people in behavioral health crisis, to clearing encampments, to providing direct funding to local non-profit service providers, the City has addressed this issue from many angles. Despite this significant investment of City resources and time, the problem of homelessness persists and is growing. 

Persists and is growing. According to a 9th Circuit Court of Appeals legal decision from a few years ago, it's "cruel and unusual punishment" to enforce rules that stop homeless people from camping in public places when they have no place else to go. That means states across the 9th Circuit can no longer enforce similar statutes if they don't have enough shelter beds for homeless people sleeping outside.

A lot has changed in the past year and a half, and my wife and I are now advocates for safe sleeping areas in and around our city. There has to be a safe place for everyone in our community -- if they are sanctioned and supervised by the city and county. That was always supposed to be the plan, with millions available in funds from the city and county and multi-layer plans researched and recommended -- and then COVID-19 hit. 

That's the confusing part now. So much fo the information our our city website about homelessness is years old, and when we reached out to Caltrans, they passed responsibility back to the city and county. After reaching out to our mayor, city council, chief of police and one of the county supervisors, only the county supervisor responded. But we do know that law enforcement can't be responsible for it all. 

However, there are seemingly no plans in place, no fully functional transitional camps, not enough shelters to accommodate those in need of housing. And if they're are, we can't find the up-to-date information. There are local non-profits assisting the homeless and that's another channel for us to investigate further, like Housing Matters. 

What are we supposed to do? And what should we do? Of course we empathize, but these unsanctioned homeless encampments are a health and safety issue because there are no wellness checks that we're aware of, no animal control and no sanitation control (trash and sewage). They're a safety issue for the homeless, especially those families, children and young adults experiencing homelessness, and those of us with families and secure housing.

Here's the biased perception I'm working hard to move past -- the fact that we don't know who these people experiencing homelessness are (as of the 2019 census, 74% of respondents reported they were living in Santa Cruz County at the time they most recently lost their housing), and the same census shows they're not all criminals, addicts or mentally ill. They also don't know who we are, those of us secure in our homes, and the fact there are some of us who may be criminals, addicts and mentally ill. 

So, how do we build a bridge and help as community members beyond donating to local organizations and food banks? How can we volunteer more to help? Voting helps too, but the impacts aren't immediate and are also so polarized today. With local government budgets taking huge revenue hits going forward, a daunting fire recovery only just beginning, and with the weight of today bearing down more and more each day, what else can we do? It's not clear to us -- where's the clarity bridge for homelessness, hope and action? 

We love our community and we've survived earthquakes, fires, high cost of living, economic devastation, a pandemic (still surviving) and more. While many people may be leaving California for all of the above reasons, we are staying and raising our children here and will do what we can to help it heal, to build those new bridges and move forward. We empathize with those experiencing homelessness, because everyone deserves to sleep safely and to have access to the resources they need to improve their lives whatever their circumstance. 


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, September 6, 2020

Stars to Shine

"I wasn't praying for magic
I was hiding in plain sight
Rising up from the surface
To fly into the light, into the light..."

–Rush, Sweet Miracle


Sometimes I think as parents, we don't really want to know when our children are going through something difficult. Something wrought with emotional and psychological discomfort that they can't articulate. We may sense it, and it may even manifest itself in ways that are undeniable. But if they don't talk about it, if we don't talk about it, then maybe it will go away. Will work itself out. Will be normal. 

That doesn't mean we don't care about our children. That we don't love them. Of course we do. And of course we ask, "What's wrong, sweetie?" Because we want to be there for them, to resolve whatever angst might be strangling them. Regardless of their age. 

Because pre-coronavirus, they were usually out of the house more during the day, especially if you have school-age kids like we do. They were around a lot more people during, friends and teachers, and if they were in any extracurricular activities after school they were around even more kids and adults. Being exposed to life lessons and positive and negative stressors all around. Life as we knew it. 

Decades earlier, my mom and dad were supportive and loving parents, and yet, I never felt comfortable sharing the turmoil inside me that grew dramatically during my teenage years. As a child, part of my heart had collapsed like a star turned black hole, sucking the light from my eyes no matter how hard I tried to stay positive. As my awareness of the world around me, and inside me, grew, and my reactions to that awareness, the black hole's gravity expanded. Although I just wanted to be liked, I didn't like myself much, and those feelings of unworthiness, vulnerability and weakness only isolated me more. Rife with anxiety and panic attacks, I never shared any of it with my parents. They did notice something was wrong, and they did ask, but I never talked about it. So they never pressed. Until one day at the end of my senior year in high school the black hole burst open. Decades later light, so much light. 

They had no idea. Didn't really want to have any idea, which again, didn't mean they didn't love me and want to offer me support. They just wanted me to be happy. And normal. God knows they had their own collapsed stars haunting the skies of their adulting lives. 

It's been six months now since COVID-19 changed our lives forever. And is still changing them. Out there is a pandemic, economic devastation, divisive political polarity, racial injustice, social unrest and more. In here are families like ours, locked down together, fearful of the future, limited in what we can do, distance learning for school, camping together for vacations, no other extracurricular activities, missing distant family and friends, and "podding" with other families to stay safe and virus free and to have some social interaction in so much social isolation. Researcher Dr. Brené Brown calls this Day 2, the messy middle -- the point of no return.

We are all in the messy middle now and we have no choice but to continue going through it. Hopefully we'll all come out in Day 3 better for it. And thankfully these days as parents, there are many more of us who do want to know when are children are going through something difficult. Who empower our children to be able to articulate the emotional and psychological discomfort they're experiencing. Who encourage them to safely share, without judgement, while we listen and provide parental counsel. And who are so proud of them when they come up with their own resilient ideas of what they need to adapt and thrive. 

We are with them all the time, and no matter what we're going through as adults today, we want to save them from adulting doom, their own potential black hole implosions. We only want their stars to shine through their eyes and in our skies. 


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, August 30, 2020

Loving Community Wide Shots Abound

The beep woke me. The camper kitchen fan remained on, but everything else was still and dark, inside and outside. I knew then that the power had gone out in our camper and the campground. No one else in my family stirred. 

I reached for my phone. It lit up when I touched the screen, revealing the time of 3:30 AM, and a text and a missed call. The text was the fact that our home motion alarm had gone off at 10:30 PM, five hours earlier. The missed called was the alarm company. That meant that, since we didn't cancel the alarm, they would've called 911. 

My first thought was to check our doorbell video camera, but since the wifi was out at the campground, and we had no cell service where our site was in the campground, that wasn't going to happen. Maybe I should walk to the front of the campground where I'll get service, I thought. 

My mind raced. Did someone break into our house? Our neighbors who were home were looking out for those who weren't, but that thought brought the sick feeling of being violated, of things trashed and lost. Burglary and looting were top of mind for those evacuated and those just getting out of the smoke due to the CZU August Lightning Complex fires burning in our areas. We've all been so stressed of late due to the fires, coronavirus and civil unrest. 

"What's wrong?" my wife Amy asked. She was awake. Good.

"Our house alarm went off last night at 10:30," I said. 

The power went back on in the campground, and a few minutes later wifi was back up. I checked our video camera footage, and sure enough, two police officers had rung our doorbell shortly after our alarm went off. That sick feeling throbbed again. 

"I need to go check the house," I said. 

"Yes, you should," Amy said.

We were only about 25 minutes from home, but it was far enough for us to get out of the smoke for a couple of nights. Smoke that still permeated much of the Westside of Santa Cruz where we live. We had been prepped to evacuate, but were fortunate that we didn't have to. Going to the campground with our camper was our choice. For nearly 80,000 people in our area, it was not a choice. We were grateful to be able to donate some bedding and other items for evacuees the day before, volunteering at one of the donation centers for evacuees and helping to sort donations.  

As I drove back to our house at 4 AM, that sick feeling grew. I thought about the time in college when I rented a house with three other guys. It was near the holidays and we had a house party. There were people there we didn't know, but hey, we were partying and all was well. The next day after we had all gone off to classes and jobs, our house was broken into. Our rooms ransacked. All the Christmas presents I had bought for my family were gone, along with other valuables, never to be recovered.

As I got closer to home, the feeling of being violated fed my fear and anger. Earlier in the week in our neighborhood, there had been a shirtless guy wearing shorts, a baseball cap and a scarf covering his mouth and nose, riding his bike around and calling out, "Here kitty kitty." He claimed to be an evacuee from the mountains and was looking for his cat he had brought with him, but his story changed after talking with other neighbors of ours. We were all convinced he was casing our houses, seeing who was house and who wasn't. There were others as well going down our street. Plus, we already had an RV homeless camp across the highway from our neighborhood that had been growing for weeks. And there had already been looters arrested in the mountain community above us, and one who had stolen from a firefighter. 

I pulled into the driveway and everything looked fine. My wife had texted if everything was okay. Beatrice was up too and texted she loved me. I texted back I was home. We had left the porch light on even though we have motion-activated lights. There was a package on our porch that had been delivered the day before. I was surprised it was still there. I picked it up and held it like a weapon. Later when I opened it, it was cookies from the RV dealer we had bought our camper from, so I was going to bludgeon the intruder with chocolate chip cookies. 

I unlocked the door and stepped inside. I turned off the alarm, the package held tightly in my other hand. Nothing askew inside. Everything was how we left it. Our rabbit was in his cage in the living room staring at me and chewing hay quietly. I checked the rest of the house -- all was well. Relief washed away the sick feeling. I fed our rabbit some vegetables, locked up and headed back to the campground with the cookies. 

I let our neighbors know what had happened with our alarm and that I had come home to check on things. Everyone who was home continued to keep an eye out for each other, just as the greater community where we live -- civilians, law enforcement and firefighters alike -- all doing their best to keep each other safe and to help each other. There has been an outpouring of donations and volunteers -- donations that are still needed for the 40,000 who still remain evacuated. 

In the midst of so much fear and loathing today, driven by singular events, short sensational clips and soundbites, loving community wide shots abound. Like those continuing to mobilize and help one another because of fires, hurricanes, COVID-19, racial injustice and more. 

Bless you all and your communities. 


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, August 23, 2020

A Foundation Worth Saving

The first time we experienced a possible evacuation due to a wildfire, we had no time to think about what to take. Within 10 minutes, we packed a few clothes, some toiletries, loaded our safe filled with important family documents, our computers and iPads, and had the girls pack a few of their personal items (as calmly as possible). We had guinea pigs then, but weren't sure what to do about them. 

Their cage would have fit in the car, so that wasn't a problem, but if we ended up stranded somewhere, there was no way we could keep them in the car. It would be too hot. And the eventual smell of course; guinea pigs sit in their own pee and poop. Maybe we could drop them off at a friend's house. Or maybe we just couldn't take them with us. Thankfully we didn't have to end up making that call.

Just 10 minutes earlier, I had heard a helicopter overhead. Then a plane fly by. Then the helicopter again. Then another plane. Our neighbor told us the highway in front of us was closing. My wife Amy said there was a fire down the street and we had to go. We heard multiple firetrucks and police cars scream by us down the highway. The helicopter and planes flew overhead again.

But then the fire danger was extinguished as quickly as it had started. We unloaded our car and were again safe at home. 

Fast forward to today. We had no idea the hit-and-run thunderstorms and dry lightning we had the week before would cause so much destruction. According to CAL FIRE, there are nearly 6,000 wildfires burning in California. Over 200,000 acres burned. Five deaths. Nearly 2,000 structures destroyed. The fire nearest to us, the CZU August Lightning Complex, is now near the edge of the Santa Cruz city limits and is only 8% contained. It's burned 71,000 acres in Santa Cruz and San Mateo Counties.

More than 77,000 people have been evacuated in our area. Our hearts go out to those who have been displaced, who've lost their homes and so many personal heirlooms and memories. We thank our first responders, our local firefighters and those who have joined the firefight from other states (over 1,300 total), the Red Cross, CERT volunteers and our community for donating important items needed for those evacuated, like tents, bedding, water and toys for kids. We thank our neighbors for looking out for each other's homes and keeping each other informed of the latest fire news and staying on the lookout for burglars eyeing empty homes. And let's not forget that we're still in the middle of a pandemic that's resulted in the worst economy since the Great Depression. 

Shortly after this latest fire danger escalated, we began to prepare and pack. This time we had time to pack more of what we could take and what we'd need. We got our new camper out of storage and parked it in front of our house to take with us if we had to go. We packed away sentimental things and stored them at a friend's house. We have our suitcases and boxes ready to go if the evacuation warning comes. Plus, our dog Jenny and rabbit Dragonlily. 

The fire danger hit both of our daughters, Beatrice and Bryce, pretty hard the other night. The reality of what was/is happening, the fires so close, school being canceled again, friends leaving the area due to the smoke as well as the fire, the packing of important things and the leaving of others -- actually hit us all pretty hard. What do you take when you don't know how much time you have? Or, more accurately for us this time, what do you not take when you have time to look at everything.

Really look at everything. As I filmed the outside of our house and every room, nook and cranny inside the house, I teared up. Yes, there's all the stuff we can't take with us, but there are also so many memories in this house, which thankfully we can. This being the first and only house my wife and I were grateful to buy together, and the only house our daughters have ever known. Our family pictures, the kids' artwork, every scratch, scuff and worn place. From their births to birthdays (what a way to celebrate Bryce's 10th this year) to holidays to the lean times to the many good times to today -- through all the highs and lows -- we're grateful for it all. 

We're still not out of the burning woods yet, but we'll have still each other no matter what happens, our #BhivePower, no matter all the things we may lose. That will always be a foundation worth saving.  


Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

Sunday, August 16, 2020

This Hit-And-Run Thunderstorm

"Accidents will happen

They only hit and run

You used to be a victim now you're not the only one

Accidents will happen

They only hit and run

I don't want to hear it cause I know what I've done..."

 

–Elvis Costello and the Attractions, Accidents Will Happen



As we straddled part of the two-lane highway with our trailer in tow, all I could see in that moment was the car that rammed into the back end of my Fiat X-19 at 65 miles per hour. 

That was nearly three decades ago. My ex-wife had been in that little car, her seatbelt on, and I was standing behind it trying to flag down traffic to help. We had broken down, had no power, the wheels had locked up and there was a light rain falling at dusk. We had broken down in the lane next to the fast lane on a multi-lane highway. Some cars had started to slow and pull over, and a trucker lit a flare, but it was too late. One car barreled down on us. I jumped clear. It struck the back of the Fiat and drove it over 100 yards down the highway. Amazingly my ex ended up with only minor injuries. One of the passengers in the other car had serious injuries. 


That's what I kept seeing as we tried to turn around on the two-lane highway with our new camper rig. I knew in the moment my reaction was as irrational as reliving the memory from the past, but it was too late. 


"What are you doing?" I yelled. "You cannot turn around here!"


"Yes, I can. There's plenty of room," my wife Amy said. I could tell she wasn't happy with my tone.


We had recently purchased our new trailer camper and this was only our second trip. Amy drove this leg of the trip and our two daughters were playing on their devices in the back seat. We had missed the turnoff to the campground and were now in a precarious place to try and turn around. Without the camper it would've been a quick flip around to head back the other way. 


I kept seeing another vehicle hitting us, over and over again. I pounded violently on on the plastic molding between the front window and my passenger door. 


"Stop now! We cannot turn around here! This is is a safety problem and we will get hit!"


I could feel Amy and the girls flinch at my actions and words. Again, I knew as it happened that I was overreacting. Sure, it was definitely a safety problem and we didn't have much room and there was a blind curve behind us. We ended up driving a little further to find a safer turn-around space, and shortly after that we were at the campground. We would've figured it out and we did. 


I apologized to my family and we talked through it. Amy understand why I felt how I felt, just not my aggressive response, a recurring response for me at times (the blue genes strike back). We've been spending so much quality time together as a family during this pandemic, choosing eyes of love (most of the time) in the face of any adversity. We have so much to be grateful for -- a loving family, employment, being safe and healthy. 


Accidents will happen, though. We both have gotten frustrated with our kids and snapped at them. We've gotten frustrated with each other and snapped back. The girls even asked if everything was okay between us when this happens, not understanding the difference between simple disagreements and the need for deeper dialogue. And now I realize that after these past six months of COVID-19, the deaths, the lockdowns, the economic devastation, the racial injustice, the protests, the cultural divide, the leadership failures and so much more around us that feels like it's all going to hell, that the road-straddle response referenced above was the beginning of my hitting a wall.


Again, I'm super grateful for everything in my life. But with us all home together all the time through work and play, the girls starting school from home again and us being bummed out for them, and then feeling like I don't have enough quality time with my wife even though we're together all the time, I hit a wall hard. Depressed. Lethargic. Hopeless, which is unusual for me of late. Everything feeling and looking like complete shit. The world going to hell in a big community handbasket. 


According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) latest Morbidity and Mortality Weekly Report (MMWR), 40 percent of adults said they struggled with mental health challenges and substance abuse. Ugh. I haven't hit a wall like this in a long time, and thankfully Amy and I always talk through it all, walk through it all, love through it all. It's so important during weight of today that keeps bearing down on so many of us, too many of others disproportionately actually, that we talk about how we feel. Get help about why we feel this way. Don't be afraid to ask for help about when we feel this way. 


We had severe thunderstorms last night that we usually don't get in Santa Cruz. Amy and the girls slept through most of it, although the thunder kept waking me and the lightning kept flashing and waking me (and Jenny our dog who barked at it a few times during the night). The past six months have felt like this hit-and-run thunderstorm that never seems to pass, leaving me exhausted for tomorrow. 


So, I think I'll just be thankful for today instead by talking, walking and loving through it all.



Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts: