Love in the time of Covid

One of the activities I let go during the pandemic was writing here on my blog. In part, this was due to being in grad school, in part this was due to issues with the blog (I think it had gone defunct because there was an issue with us paying for it to be hosted elsewhere) - at any rate, I wrote on FB. Many of us, I am sure changed due to Covid. While on FB, I wrote installments of what I fondly named "The Covid Chronicles". I am toying with gathering up those posts and putting them here, just because I've grown to loathe FB. 

This blog has always been a space for me to reflect on life, love and living in society. One of the constants for Colette's Gave has been love. Being in love, falling out of love, finding love anew. Because of Covid, we collectively (well most of us), were trapped in our homes. Many marriages, it is reported, suffered; there was an uptick in divorces. In my home, with my love, we survived. We grew together. We weathered the storm of being in closed quarters. 

My love is an anomalie. He's an introvert, yet he's not. He loves to entertain, he loves to talk with interesting people. I say interesting, not because he will not speak with dullards, but because he really lights up and shines when he can engage in intellectual pursuits. So, I think some of the pandemic isolation was hard for him, just in different ways. I had a harder time, I think in terms of my own internal struggles. Before Covid, I would have considered myself an extrovert. The pandemic made me depressed. even though I was able to participate in an internship with my local VA, serving veterans, it was a scary and lonely time for me, and I struggled with the lack of connection. Today, I'd consider myself more of an introvert, however - science and all - I am not sure that's due to the pandemic, or because I am getting older. Again, the constant in all of this has been my love. There are many posts I made, speaking to this, (including one titles the saem as this post), to being blessed to have him in my liife and still it remains. Perhaps we would have found this rythm regardless; I remain dubious of that. It took a global cataclysm to remind me of all the reasons I married this man. 

I saw an article recently, probably from the New York Times that was meant to help couples and roommates who struggle with divying up houshold chores. In reading this, it occured to me (again) just how lucky I am in my choice of mate. He does tasks all the time, often without being asked. As far as a fair division of household duties, tis I who lags. I don't want to make excuses, not even for my health issues (that definitely grew worse with the pandemic for various reasons). Lets just say again, my spouse is an amazing partner, and he has given me many reasons to feel less skeptical about a love that lasts a lifetime.

Poetry (in the works)

What inspired this was a re-connection with my love, in the flesh, and a ambient song title from today on Amazon Music. . .

Occaisional miracle

It's not an occasional miracle 
Our love 
My favorite journey 
Is finding my way 
Back to you 

It’s not the “I love yous” 
That pepper the space 
Between us 
Some caught 
Some left hanging 

It’s not the shared knowledge 
Our love 
My favorite journey 
Is finding my way 
Back to you 

It’s not the dark nights 
Lonely, yet together 
Between us 
Some needed 
Some,more painful 

It’s not the occasional miracle 
This love 
My favorite journey 
Is finding my way 
Back to us