There have been many times in my life when the world seemed to have been turned upside down. When it felt like my life was balanced on a razor's edge when the stress was so potent and the fear so high my eyes jumped at the creak of a floorboard. This virus is different.
When I was young and insecure and had no resume for coping with danger, every war or financial failure seemed like a death note, something that would never end because there could never be a solution, but there always was.
This time the signs of trembling fear, the fear that weakens your knees and leaves your upper lip twitching with beads of sweat isn't within me. It probably should be.
I've been away from New York for almost two months. I'm in Madison, Wisconsin. The pandemic is here. We all stay close to home. We wear masks if we go out. We keep our distance but the sirens of death have yet to be heard with the severity of the city I left. Here in Madison it's the cardinal's song that wakes me in the morning.
Being home in Madison has been a gift, a gift of family, a gift of community. We have physical fences on all sides of out property but they've not been barriers. They've been supports to lean over to call out to Issac and Julie or Pat and Randy. For six years we've lived next to Caroline we've only spoken to her once. Now we're all on our knees pulling mustard weed out of each other's yards. Turns out our neighbors to the back sell organic pork, beef, lamb and poultry. Something we never knew. We bought a quarter hog that Issac is keeping for us in their freezer. We clap our hands every time Julie shows up in her backyard. She's a nurse and a hero and we wouldn't have known this if the virus hadn't put us at a six foot distance across our fences as both shouted out to each other, "Hi, I'm Rick, love what you're doing with your garden".
Green spaces and nature sanctuaries are abundant and protected perfuming the communal air
with the sweetness of mowed grass and honeysuckle.
Little free libraries, a movement that began here in Madison several years ago, dot the city and our neighborhood in color, ingenuity and culture.
There's been a relaxation of fear as a dash of humor has been the spice that makes our neighborhood so delicious. We have a designated block harkening back to the days of Monty Python where silly walks are mandatory. The marshals of our silly walks sitting out on their patio told me the story of a police cruiser that passed by. It made a slow first pace then turned around and parked. The officer got out and did his silly walk for the whole block before he got back into his car and drove away.
I'm lucky. I wish everyone was. I can't say moving back to Madison was a choice I made enthusiastically. Fate pushed me back here. I'm so glad it did.
EDITOR'S NOTE: Even this Georgia born New Yorker has finally come to feel connected with this beautiful city he once anointed with the moniker " My own private Siberia" at first feeling exiled from my beloved New York City. I have a beautiful, comfortable home, gardens I can get my hands dirty in and neighbors I love, neighbors who when you need a gardening tool or advice, are there for you (you know who you are - Pat & Randy , Julie & Issac). This pandemic will end, my NYC apartment will be there, actually an upgraded one, but I will forever be grateful to Madison, Wisconsin for saving my life, not once but twice; you see I am a 10 year cancer survivor and had it not been for an exceptional medical community providing exceptional care in this city, I may not be here in this amazing world we all live in.
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