Tag: corona kimono

A few weeks ago, after our lamb Scotty died, Jon and I went shopping for a new rifle.  The one he used to euthanize Scotty was old and wasn’t working right.  We both felt it was important to have a rifle that was easy to use and working properly.

We called around and finally found a gunshop that had a .22 rifle. It was just what Jon was looking for. We had passed the shop before on the way to Glens Falls.  They also sold shoes, which seemed nicely quirky to me and it looked like a friendly place.

The gun shop was big and spacious inside with lots of people walking around. Men, women, and children were looking at guns, talking to each other, having a good time.

But no one was wearing a mask.

It was surreal. I found it shocking.

I haven’t been around so many people since last march who weren’t wearing masks.  It’s actually rare to see anyone not wearing a mask, even though we live in a place that overwhelmingly voted for Trump.

I felt like I had walked into one of my nightmares,  the ones I started having regularly a few months ago.

In them, I’m in a crowd of people, who all seem to be enjoying themselves, and no one is wearing a mask.  I start to panic and realize that I’m not wearing a mask either. I look around for it, but either can’t find one or the one I have doesn’t fit on my face.

I wake up agitated and frightened.

The woman who owned the gun shop was helpful, but I can’t say I felt comfortable there. I got the feeling we were all working hard to find common ground.   We found it in the purchase of the rifle and some small talk about shoes.

I overheard a conversation about how the virus wasn’t as bad a people made it out to be. And when the owner asked one of the salespeople to show Jon a rifle, he wouldn’t even look at Jon.

I am still haunted by a pistol that was in one of the showcases.

It had Trump’s name and face engraved on the handle and the words “Keep America Great” on the barrel.   It had the feeling of a fetish.  Imbued with the spirit of anger and hatred.

Even if people have not had an experience like Jon and I did at the gunshop, I’ve talked to people who have had nightmares similar to the ones I’ve been having.

I’ve heard that we have some nightmares so that when we wake from them we can be grateful they’re not real.

I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling I got from being in the gun shop for days. I think if I ever find myself in a situation like that again, I’ll just turn around and walk out.

A few weeks ago Jon and I stopped at The Mansion and dropped off some things they needed at the front door.  As we drove up, I looked in the windows of the big room where special events were always held and people sometimes watched TV on the big screen the Army of Good bought for them.

I felt a longing to able to walk through the door, plunk down on the couch next to whoever was sitting there and have a casual conversation like I used to.  I thought about how Alice used to reach for my hand when I sat next to her. We would just sit there together, holding hands, not having to say a word.

I always felt welcomed at The Mansion, by the people who live there as well as the staff.

Today I looked on my blog to see when I was last there.  It’s was February 12th, almost a year ago.  We were making a community quilt.  Julie, the activities director, had fabric that had been donated.  I brought in two of my sewing machines and  Ruth, Claudia, Nancy, and Becky chose pieces of fabric then Julie and I sewed them together.

I was thinking about The Mansion today and I wanted to represent the people there that I miss on my Corona Kimono.  So  I did a drawing of Madeline, one of the women who live there, and stitched it on the sleeve of my Corona Kimono. 

Around her image, I wrote about how I missed going to The Mansion and how welcomed and comfortable I always felt there. In my original drawing Madeline was holding up one of her drawings that she did in a class I taught.  But when I stitched the drawing of Madeline onto the sleeve of the Kimono I ran out of room for her drawing.

So now it’s Madeline, representing The Mansion and the people who live there on my Corona Kimono.

Madeline, who would sometimes forget things from one moment to the next, but even in her ninety’s has a beautiful voice and could still sing all the words to “Diamonds Are A Girls Best Friend” and act it out like she did in the play over seventy years ago.

I know it will be different when I can go back to The Mansion.  Some of the people I knew won’t be there anymore and there will be other people I’ve never met before.

But I still have the beginnings of the quilt we started in February.  When the pandemic is over and visitors can return to The Mansion, I plan on bringing the pieces back and finishing the quilt.