Is There Escape in the Time of Corona?

There was a time before the world changed. When we thought we were stressed, but we didn’t know what stress was. Where we walked around complaining about our good fortune.

I don’t regret that time. But I do wish I had it back.

I don’t think we were ridiculous. There was plenty of worry. There always is if you don’t stop yourself from looking for it. We’ve never quite trusted our legs; they’ve never felt fully stable. The world was already moving at lightning speed in an unsavory direction.

Three weeks ago, after 14 days of strict quarantine, my husband, Andrew, and my two kids and I fled Brooklyn for my in-laws’ house in a hushed enclave that feels a million miles from everywhere; my parents and sister took a rented home down the road. We are a quarantined compound. With Jewish heritage like ours, you don’t wait around to be last to leave — even if others think you’re overreacting.

As a native New Yorker, I felt a bit like I was jumping ship — like a traitor. But then we got in the car and I exhaled for the first time in weeks (not near anyone, of course).

But, even here, in this quiet place, I’m tempted to whisper lest the danger find us. It’s hard to picture a time when we’ll rush through cereal, argue about wearing coats and walk our children down those idyllic tree-lined…