17 Mar EVERYTHING GLISTENED AND TREMBLED

Yesterday my husband and I went to Denver, intending to take fresh loaves of bread from our fantastic local bakery to my mom and sister and sister’s neighbor. Something Biblical in that — loaves of bread before the plague — but not being Jesus, we forgot to bring them.

But we met my mom and my sister, and squinting at the sun in our unzipped winter coats we walked down streets I’ve taken for granted my whole life. Past Denver’s stodgy but recently skylighted and dove-gray-painted and hipstered bungalows. Past small lawns still straw-colored with last year’s grass.

If you looked for it, you could see dots of green in the lawns and occasional constellations of crocuses. But early spring has never been Denver’s glory. It’s the easiest time of year to find these streets forgettable.

But yesterday, I didn’t.

Yesterday everything glistened and trembled with uncertainty, with the possibility of goodbye: The rows of houses, the outdoor metal table where we sat and fed the dog pizza, my sister knowing every third person who passed by, different members of our party darting off to the pharmacy to try and fail to buy vitamins for my mom (who went off and bought herself a $6 bananas foster ice cream cone instead) and to the fancy garden store to buy soap dishes that matched, so my sister and mom and I could have similar hand washing rituals in the weeks to come even if we live 32 miles apart. I bought my sister and me the same cologne so we could smell the same even though we won’t be able to see each other if there’s a lockdown. We all said we had enough food and yuck, supermarkets, but went to the Sprouts anyway and lo and behold there were no crowds and plenty of vegetables, so we loaded up yet again.

My 84 year old mom skipped this part, tired of being lectured by her children on how to wash her hands, and wanting to go watch Bernie Sanders on TV, — and so after the grocery we dropped her Vitamin B by her apartment, where she was watching Bernie and Biden go at it before the communal screen in the lobby, which we’d forbidden. But she opened the doors with her elbow when she came out, and we all applauded and blew her kisses. And when she went back inside and waved through the glass, we wept.