COVID Adventure

On a cool February morning, we stand together in the Maine ocean, full of horror and anticipation of what we have set for ourselves as a Wednesday Adventure challenge; a dip in this 39-degree Fahrenheit bath. It bites at our ankles and all we can do is shriek. “We just have to do this one thing! One thing!”

“Oh, Jesus. Oh my God. It hurts!” shouts Oakley, but he is grinning; radiating life.

“Come on, no turning back now!” I cry, the sun and the cold and the bright winter day fill my lungs and burst out of my mouth triumphantly. “We are doing this!”

With that I hold my breath and plunge under the water, then porpoise up and out, lunging for the shore, tripping over my feet gasping, sputtering, and laughing. My skin feels afire and my heart pounds in my chest. Oakley is seconds behind me, shaking his head like a wet golden retriever. When he reaches the beach, he gallops up and down the sand, caterwauling with pure glee and spewing a sequence of joyful obscenities. r

Everything tingles. Everything is bright. It feels like happiness.

Two days later, my husband begins to feel a little lightheaded and develops a slight cough. The next day he feels achy. The next day he is tested for COVID and finds that he has it and due to Oakley and my proximity to him, we find that we will need to quarantine for 10 to 20 days depending on how the virus travels in our family unit. We can not leave our home. I knew this day would come, and I know we will be okay.

It is Adventure Wednesday again. My husband Twain feels better and for that I am grateful, but this week, my chest does not feel full of radiating light; it feels tight, like a toddler is sitting upon it. A little toddler. I believe the virus is sniffing around for fertile ground, but I am a healthy woman and not too worried. This will have to be a different kind of adventure.

Oakley seems fine and so we are busying ourselves with small projects that don’t require much energy. I think he is relieved by the quiet. He builds a fire in the backyard and bakes a chocolate cake in a dutch oven-it is delicious. We give our ducks a bath and watch them munch on floating lettuce and preen themselves as if they are preparing for a ball, then Oakley decorates his room and nests in it, perhaps inspired by the ducks.

Today, I breathe shallow breaths and feel like napping and watching bad television. I have no desire to jump in the ocean, but the memory of the shock and beauty we felt lingers. It will be there another day. That’s the thing about the ocean, about the mountains, about the sun. they are always there, and I know we will be back to play in them all, after I just take a little rest.