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Cathexis

Love Coronavirus Style


My husband, Mark, and I have not shared a kiss (something we've done daily over the past 35 years) for several weeks now. He's an administrative health care worker whose position is deemed essential, necessitating him to go to the hospital every day for his shift. His age and my medical condition place us both in the high-risk category for the coronavirus. Kissing and a host of other activities and rituals, are currently off-limits to us as we try our level best to remain healthy.

In the evening, when he returns home from work, we conduct a strict sanitizing regimen. It starts with a phone call alerting me to his arrival so I can hold open the door as he makes a hands-free, direct beeline for the basement, where he strips off his clothes and throws them immediately into the washer. Then, he treats the soles of his shoes with antibacterial spray and places them on a boot tray. After executing several other sanitizing practices, he makes his way to our upstairs bathroom (the one we use least) and thoroughly washes his face and hands. He retrieves a fresh set of clothes to put on before returning downstairs to finally greet me, sans "the kiss", of course.

We've yet to effortlessly adapt to this touch-less lifestyle, both in our home and towards each other. Just last night, as he was going to bed ahead of me (it was a "school night" for him), we wished each other a "Happy Easter" one last time and caught ourselves slightly leaning in for a kiss: a kiss of ecclesiastic celebration, a kiss of gratitude, a good night kiss denied, once again. (After more than three decades, kissing's a hard habit to break, particularly during moments of profound joy)

Earlier, on Sunday, we decided to take a walk before sitting down to our Easter dinner for two. A stroll through our thickly settled neighborhood last week had proven to be a harrowing experience, so, we decided to instead roam the lanes of a local cemetery hoping to minimize encounters of the human kind. When we exited the car we found it a bit breezy, so we donned thick knit gloves, and without thinking, clasped hands to start our walk (again, something we've always done). We momentarily froze in place realizing the breach we had just committed. But we quickly calculated that the gloves placed a fair measure of protection between us, and so we kept holding hands. The experience was at once foreign and familiar—and just like old times...

Each night, when Mark comes down the stairs, all scrubbed up, he has a look of relief on his face, as he offers me a reassuring smile (our new kind of kiss). He tells me these precious few hours in the evening at home are the only time he feels safe in a given day. We both know we are not really safe, though. Just like all the other people unable to truly quarantine from this invisible, unpredictable killer, we live with the reality that we might become infected despite our diligent efforts. Nonetheless, we choose to end each evening in gratitude because today we are alright. We embrace this moment as if it's all we have because it is literally all we have.

When this morning arrived, Mark put on his work attire, and, once again, made his way into the fray. Later today, like all the days behind us over the past several weeks, we'll perform the disinfecting dance with measured hope. I think about Mark's courage, not because he's without fear, but rather, in spite of it, he carries on with such grace. We still laugh, a lot, and take joy in the things that remain consistent in our lives. And, we look forward to the day when we can finally share that unencumbered smooch. A first kiss, of sorts.



Epilogue:

Early on in this terrible pandemic I wrote this essay, "Love Coronavirus Style", to serve as an account of our first holiday (Easter) alone in lockdown; the high anxiety we were feeling around Mark's employment as an essential administrative health care worker at our local hospital felt noteworthy to me, and I wanted to capture its essence, unmodified by time.. This essay received more feedback than any other piece I've written to date. In fact, a year later, I still get occasional inquires, mostly asking for updates on the status of our kissing situation! Well, all I'll state about that is "a picture can say a thousand words"!

Images:

The Lovers, René Magritte, 1928. Oil on canvas. 21 3/8 x 28 7/8". Museum of

Modern Art. Accessed April 13, 2020. https://www.moma.org/collection/works/79933


The Lovers Unmasked (after René Magritte), design by Lisa M. Careau in collaboration with Jennifer Jordan-Careau,

May 15, 2021.


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