Day 26: Fear

Today, it was the first time I saw my kid's eyes widen with concern. The fear and worry were too obvious to ignore. She needed reassurance. I tried to provide that. But she also wants to be told that I will be okay that she will be, that everyone we love is going to be fine. I don't lie to her. Although the truths I communicate, have always been adapted to her age. She doesn't need the extra worries an adult has, and I learned, a few years ago, that being a single mom and only having her can easily translate into converting her into a sort of young confidant. Now, I'm always mindful of the responsibilities I place on her. She's mature for her age, but she has the right to be a kid. As a child, I was concerned with cancer. Of course, I feared to get it myself, but more than anything, I wondered what would happen to me if my parents got cancer, if they got ill and died. It was the most frightening thought for me, particularly when I was really young. Tessa doesn't depend on me anymore. Not like a young child would. She's a pre-teen full of opinions (which she has carefully considered), can make her cookies, and can clearly see all my weaknesses. It's scary how capable and smart she is. And yet, I have found myself making her breakfast, getting her water, buttering her toast. I do these things as a gesture of love, to reassure her that I'm still here and that she can count on me, even for something she could do herself. Am I going to be okay? she asks. Most likely, we will be fine, I answer. We are lucky, I continue, we have enough space that we can have separate private areas. We can share and watch films or play games. We can cook tasty meals and look after each other. We have Darcy, Daisy,

and Amadeus to keep us entertained with their antics and give us unconditional love. What about the people who are alone? she asks. The people we love have others to keep them company, I answer. What about Sam? she insists. What about Sam, I wonder, and I send him a message and hope he's not feeling the weight of the loneliness that makes it difficult to breathe in the penumbra of my bedroom...

11:45 pm:

Canada cases 22,148

Deaths 570

Recoveries 6013

World cases 1,698,416

World deaths 102,764

World recoveries 376,677