MASK 2020

Mask…. to conceal something from view.

If we knew back then what we know now, what would we have done? With no crystal ball, the future is always concealed from our view. We make vague predictions yet we can’t say for sure what awaits us the next minute, hour, day or year. Much of 2020 has been about things unseen and unheard of. What lies? What lies out there? What lies ahead? What is revealed when a howling wind unexpectedly lifts the gauzy veil from the fabric of our illusions?

I phoned a lover the other day. I say ‘a lover’ because he technically is not my lover. I have no ring on my finger, no regular dating pattern, no claim to ownership of this man. Yet he is a lover of mine. My only lover. The one I’m too frightened to see because of my weight gain. I couldn’t bare to sense his judgement. I had cancer, nine operations and moved houses, all in one year. I’m a single parent supporting everyone else… except myself.

Excuses? Yes, I lost direction. I know only too well. Phone calls have taken over from where we left off….two and a half years ago. He politely doesn’t prod too much about the whys. I hint at the reason but it’s too painful and ever so not sexy. We continue on down the telephone line for hours, skimming over our vulnerabilities to prevent exposure.

Because I love him with all my heart, I look past his imperfections. I think of him as important as my children and my darling father whom we live with. My children and father are my nucleus. My lover is my extended nucleus. Without these people in my world, my life would never be the same. My ever increasing fear regarding the virus causing me to become hyper vigilant. I researched whatever ways I could protect my family. I spread an invisible safety net over my loved ones. So I phoned him.

I offered to add groceries for him onto our home delivery order. He declined. I offered to buy hand sanitiser and soap. He declined the soap and accepted the hand sanitiser. Encouraged, I threw in a bonus five masks and left the parcel on the bonnet of his car at twilight. Even if we weren’t in the middle of forced isolation, my shame and stubbornness prevented me from knocking on his door and hand delivering.

As the eeriness of those first weeks of isolation edged me further into survival mode, I refused to allow my young adults to go shopping, put petrol in the car or get the mail. I was the captain of the ship I called Safety. I was the one to don masks and gloves and stride bravely but fearfully into the local shops for a well planned in and out mission. I was the one who read about others who disinfected their clothing and groceries at their front doors. Others were doing it so I implemented disinfection methods for Uber deliveries and washing sink loads of groceries became the norm. Bananas, tomatoes, bottles of Diet Coke floated in the sudsy sink while I used antibacterial wipes to clean down light switches, door handles, surfaces and the remote control. I handed out gloves for my father to read the paper.

While I protected my family, I worried about him. The invincible Aussie male.
I texted.

Hi, I was able to organise priority grocery delivery because of Dad being a Senior. Would you like me to add some things for you?

No, I’m fine with the shops.

Well make sure you wear gloves and before you get in the car, take the gloves off and sanitise you’re hands ok.

Enough for today.

I felt like an annoying child. Chastised. It didn’t stop me from phoning a week later to let him know I had found three boxes of masks if he wanted any. As if in wartime I was triumphant discovering items like sanitiser, tinned food, toilet paper and the most prized find of all were….MASKS!

No thank you.

Well, they’re very hard to come by you know.

They aren’t recommending wearing masks.

Well, yes they are. They’re undecided yet. There are two sets of beliefs. Maybe they are discouraging the general public from wearing them because they need them for people on the frontline.

If they needed them for people on the frontline, you wouldn’t have been able to buy three boxes would you?

Well….maybe but perhaps the medical staff need them…like local GP’s and front desk receptionists and nurses. Obviously the medical people working with Covid patients require better protective gear.

You’re losing the argument, you should give up.

I’m not losing the argument at all.

We should leave this discussion.

I hung up.

There is a chill between us. How can you be punished for caring for someone? My sensitive soul is hurt and confused. It’s not the first time this has happened.
Friendships are masked with politeness. Friendships quietly hide land mines which are liable to detonate at the slightest wrong move.

BOOM!

They go off.

I wonder how long this will go on for. The isolation, the virus, his silence. I was depending on him to be my support during this time. I reached out to the vulnerable people in my extended family. I set up support systems in case one day I was unable. Other than my elderly Uncle phoning, my phone has sat silent. I sit alone, despite my family moving around me. Busy with their Netflix, their homework, their sleeping. I wipe the crumbs from the table and pack the dishwasher. I scroll the void of social media and think of the jobs I planned to do. I feel flat and disappointed in people.

When the gloves are off and our masks removed, our joint experiences in the face of real danger may have opened our eyes to the realities of human nature. Countries may reassess where their loyalties lie, they may question their ability to rely on others and perhaps examine the need to become more self sufficient. My forced solitude has forced me to consider these things also. Loyalty, reliance and self sufficiency.

I’ll put on my mask of positivity and move forward. I’ll take with me the one outstanding Facebook memory from the streets of Italy. People standing on rooftops and balconies…..singing. Voices carrying up out of the isolation, notes floating freely through the air, reaching and comforting lonely, desolated hearts. Beauty unmasked.

Leanne Russell

1st May 2020