I’m talking to lizards. And plants. And my dog and cat, who mostly ignores me, but the dog loves it. She especially loves it when I talk about cookies, and rewards me with enthusiastic leaps and tail wags when I say the right words.
As the pandemic lingers on, I find myself talking to more and more creatures—the caterpillar stuck to the kale leaf I picked in my pandemic garden, with a profuse apology on my part for destroying his food source. To the Christmas cactus that wants to bloom even though it’s not Thanksgiving yet, I offer compliments for her over achieving efforts. Even the jar of sourdough starter that has proven much more stubborn than that fun online article suggested, gets words of encouragement. Those little bubbles that finally appeared indicate life, a presence, something that needs nurturing.
I miss that.
I know that even with all that’s going on, my words make a difference somehow. Encouraging and supporting words, such a stark contrast to the insults and inciting speech surrounding the politics of this country, are desperately needed. Maybe I need to hear them too, and in their absence, I take comfort in the little signs of life and growth around me.
I miss hugs and conversations over meals shared together, words that let us explore our kindest selves and build others up. I know they will come again, but until then, I’ll write and text and tell people I love them, from six feet away, carefully and cautiously, enunciating behind a mask or over a screen, but loving with an an exuberant tail wagging joy that can’t be contained. Now if you’ll excuse me, the dog is telling me she needs another cookie.
