Mara and I spoke for almost four hours yesterday. Probably more than we’ve amassed in 2020 collectively. The girls, who wake up at hours that can qualify as decent and sometimes lunchtime, have been working their ariels in our backyard. We found a bird’s nest back there. A bird’s nest for God sake. There are eggs that could hatch any day now. Tiny little things. None of us had any idea they were there.
That was a good day. They’re not all so good.
The world’s turned upside down. You surely don’t need me to tell you. It’s going to feel a little different to everyone. There will be stress. Global anxiety. A sense of daily unfulfillment so permeating it’s palpable. There will be dust bunnies the size of tumbleweed (I have pictures). And there will be an influx of at home hair dye kits like the industry has never seen. There is so much happening. There is so little we can control.
Yes. We can help – there are many ways. Restaurants making beautiful gestures to keep one another afloat (looking at you, Scopa, Mozza, Sweetgreen), Help Feed the Frontline LA, Chef Brooke Williamson, so many doing so much good. Big Sunday! My favorite. Philanthropy is seeping in through the cracks, in ways that always, without fail, lump up my throat.
But I want to know how you guys are doing.
I am a little dying to know how you guys are doing.
I’m such a mixed bag of emotions – it’s an emotionally schizophrenic time. I’m elated because we’re healthy – thank God we’re healthy. So far, we’re healthy. Today we are healthy.
I’m disturbed because my sister has to wave hello from her car and my parents miss their grandchildren like you’d miss a limb, how long is this going to go on again? I have an 8th grader who won’t get to graduate middle school and a 5th grader who will miss graduating elementary. They’re hurting. They have every right to be hurting.
Are you vacillating between the odd elation of a schedule blown up and the paralyzing fear that normal may never make a full recovery? Or are you fearing maybe it will? And maybe change was something uninvited but unveiled something unexpectedly important in your personal path? Are you savouring solitude like you’ve never been able before, or are you mourning it’s loss like a meth addict in denial? Are you terrified because we’re all living in some sci fi thriller and honestly you never cared for sci fi anyway? Like, at all?
Where are you? Where are you in this?
I can’t muse the tang of lemongrass like I’m used to with you guys. Or wax the woodsy waft of mesquite or lavish the lavender sprig in a spring cocktail. There is so much loss in this epically strange time. So much uncertainty and so much impossible. And I miss this. I miss tossing texture and taste your way and hoping you’ll feel it on your tongue. I miss sharing life’s flavour.
I hope you are clinking quarantinis and rezooming relationships that maybe were on hiatus for no reason other than the busyness of life. I hope you are the reason Amazon is sold out of 1000-piece puzzles and I hope you thought well when you selected the people you’d choose to be stranded on a desert island with (who knew that wasn’t a hypothetical?). I am thinking of you all. I am hoping you forgive me for flying well off the grid today. As part of me is hoping I’ll find you there too. Closer than six feet. Where we can pretend.
Be well, friends. Please. Let me hear from you here in the comments section below.
Jolie Loeb is a Luxury Lifestyle columnist based in Los Angeles.