On Being Quarantined Alone on Mother’s Day

My Grandma used to tell me how much time she had on her hands — too much, she would say.

She was deep in her 80’s, lived alone and looked forward to Thursdays when the whole family gathered at her home for dinner.

Back then I was teaching middle school full time, married, raising two teenagers and was CEO of a 4 bedroom house in the suburbs.

I had no idea what my Grandma was talking about.

Now, years later, my kids are in their 20’s and off living their lives — in quarantine of course, one in Brooklyn, NY, one in Athens, Greece. Here I am smack in the middle of a global pandemic, with so much time on my hands.

It’s very odd, and very ironic.

I find myself completely alone for the first time — ever. No kids, no romantic partner, no roommate, no pets, nothing.

Four weeks with no human touch — not even a brush of someone’s arm at the supermarket or an accidental bump on the street.

There was a time I felt desperate for alone time.

I reflect on all the years I was going, going, going, the way a mother usually does. There was always something to do, somewhere to go or something to get.