My single friend recently asked how I was coping with the Covid-19 lock down in my City centre house in Dublin.  

"With three kids out of school we're bouncing off the walls," I said, " in a regular routine daily of course!"  

I was told routine was a must when trying to substitute the teacher at home.  We attempt structure, but it evades us daily with whatever ailment or difficulty pops up from having three children of different ages in a house with one toilet and a small kitchen, i.e. a bumped knee, a toy thrown, an exhaustion with lack of space and "me" time. (Hiding in the bathroom doesn't work). We're thankful to have at least garden space, but we've had to face parental shortcomings; lack of proper toileting rituals, patient kind communication between us all is in deficit, and we're totally guilty of not knowing what my daughter was doing all day at school! This last thing was a shock to learn how much her teacher does every day.  I hope and pray that this virus will die a quick death, and we can stop isolating.

I'm having a hard time, as I suspect many parents and foreigners to Ireland are also. I'm from the USA, so my husband and I now have to deal with the inability to plan a trip abroad in the foreseeable future.  It's a trapped feeling knowing you can't hop on a plane to see a loved one if they're sick or dying, or even to have something to look forward to with travel abroad and escaping the day to day routines of life.  Our family plans 1 to 2 trips abroad yearly, and this year we had planned to see my brother's family we haven't visited in 3 years, and then my uncle just died and I couldn't get to the funeral - in fact no family member could.

I keep thinking that I should be grateful for what I have, when others have it worse off during this lockdown. But, death keeps coming up. It's so invisible, like the virus. I want to stop being afraid or predicting what will happen, but I just want to be in control my life again. I can't block, or see, or even hear this crummy virus, so it's not like a person, or a wolf, or a weed, or even a leaky roof for me to deal with, but some small terror. Small in that I don't know anyone personally who's infected or died from this thing. 

Fear after fear I've had to turn over to God and thrown my hands in the air and say,

"God forgive me for mistakes I can't undo, and protect us from ourselves.  May I live long enough to say I survived this strange time, and have wisdom to know what I can and can't change.  Lord, you who are master of the universe and knower of all things, walk with me."