What A Time To Be Alive

    I celebrated my birthday February 1, 2020 with a group of 4 of the ladies who have made the biggest impact on my life in recent years. We chose to fall through my favorite restaurant in Atlanta for the occasion, and my friend The Chef took stellar care of us. I'd just sold my house, and been hired on to do some vocal production work in the city.  There I sat with my friend and realtor Dawn Strickland, good friend since High School & Music Supervisor Aamina Gant, my best framily and therapist, Accountant Amanda Staten, my longtime good friend and Fairy Godmother of my career Ethiopia Habtemariam over these tasty appetizers and cocktails and I just remember feeling free and blessed and cute and well fed.  I hadn't had that kind of fun in a while, and on my 40th birthday, I felt like it was the beginning of a new era.  I'd lived and learned...fallen super hard a couple times, and then got back up and walked off the pain like I was taught to. We toasted to another year of an already pretty cool life. What a time. 

    The Air B and B I stayed in while I was working on 'Genius: Aretha Franklin' for The National Geographic Network (production of sung vocals) was quaint and cute, and the hostess lived just upstairs.  I was very close to the recording studio we worked in primarily.  We'd had dinner together a couple of times, and there was actually one week blocked off in the middle of my stay where she graciously offered one of the bedrooms in her upstairs home to me until they checked out, and the unit became available again.  Her mom passed on while I was her guest (not COVID related), and I went up to console her and check in on her. She is my friend, and we have been in contact since.  

    COVID-19 didn't sound like a big deal at all in the beginning. The evening news reports would include a 30-second segment about 1-2 confirmed cases at a time from one coast to the next.  I ventured out unmasked in the city, but when I had to fly (twice), I donned one of my last 4 CURAD Germ Shield Surgical Masks. People looked at me like I was out of my mind, but I avoided eye contact, or glared back for a couple seconds before shifting my gaze. I got hay fever after the production shut down (along with all the others in the city on the same day), and I was a little concerned, but I'd already been in the house for like 3 weeks, so I wasn't shook.  I just drank my ginger tea and spring water like a good 40-year old girl and in a couple days I was back in action...if, of course, by "action", you mean walking in circles inside 400 sq. ft. of tiny house-ness all day. 

    One day was different in the worst kind of way. My mother called me that evening, like she always did, because we just roll like that when I'm out of state.  I picked up something different in her voice as she did the polite thing and asked me what I was doing before she told me that my grandmother, her mother, had passed on.  Grandma had dementia and started to slip away from us a year or so prior. She'd celebrated her 92nd birthday that past September, and I know--well, this time of grief for my family taught me that we are more fragile than we realize.  The idea that your memories could just start slipping away, memories of how to do things like pour yourself a beverage and take Kleenex out of a box, or who your children or grandchildren are, could just be gone one day. I began to feel very sad for her.  She was a woman who loved a good joke (at someone else's expense lol), TV program 'Hunter', a good church service, and her coffee. She was a classic and an original.  I wasn't as close to her as some of her other grandchildren, but I have had some special conversations with her...ones where she advised me on my personal matters, and I cling to that advice even today. I would have to wait to find out if we would even be able to have a service for my grandmother at all before I headed home, so in the meantime, I would be there in the Air B and B.

    At one point I was so done with being stuck indoors, unable to see my favorite nail tech in East Atlanta, or my friend/hairstylist in the City, or my other friends, that I went out for food.  I knew restaurants were really going through a hard time, and I really felt for the places that offered excellent service with phenomenal food. I got up the nerve to hop in the Ac' (A TSX named Darlene) and make my way to Roc South Cuisine.  It felt strange to be back there. I looked over at where my small group had been seated just 2 months ago to bring in "the new 30", and half-smiled. Today,  I'd placed a phone order for my favorite plate: Chef Harper's Georgia Honey Hot Chicken with collard greens and candied yams. This time, though, I was more excited to be out and to see other people than I was to actually eat. There were more parking spaces available today than I would find around this time during the week pre-pandemic. Just before exiting the car, I grabbed my hand sanitizer and as I made my way to the door, I saw a gentleman that I hadn't seen there before, just on the other side of the glass door.  He held up a finger to indicate that I would be granted access to the inside in just a moment.  The patron inside finished picking up their order.  They stepped out, and the gentleman inside motioned for me to come in.  Hosts and servers here were ALWAYS wonderful, but where I could always find a friendly twinkle in the eyes of the staff members there, something else was there: an odd mixture of apologetic uncertainty...as though anyone could blame them for having to follow CDC  COVID-19 guidelines. My friend The Chef came over while my head was turned the other way and put his arm around me.  This was nothing new. Some might even say I should have been startled under the circumstances, but I was not.  In just 3 seconds of closeness, I felt comforted. I nearly cried, because I had not seen or embraced anyone in what felt like forever. My order came out and, without considering that they couldn't see it under my face mask,  I smiled and waved goodbye to everyone.  I was really sad to be leaving. It hit me that day that I was struggling to come to terms with our new normal.

  As the number of confirmed cases grew, plus state and federal government officials were holding more and more press conferences, I knew this was going nowhere anytime soon.   I expected that I would have to travel to Los Angeles. Primary reason being that I was worried about my family.  What if something happened with them while I was in Atlanta?  What if they need help with things? What if something happens after some iron-clad travel restrictions are in place? I'd already been sending grocery delivery to my parents' house to keep them inside, because their age group was said to be most at risk at the beginning of this. I contemplated driving home. Yep, from Atlanta to Los Angeles. My mom and I had done it the previous Summer and I could just get some supplies into the car with me and sleep in my car in the evenings. Well, for a number of reasons I decided that might be riskier than flying, so flying won. I packed up everything, and I left most of the pantry items I purchased there in the unit because I had enough stuff packed into the Ac' as it was.  My car went to a storage facility near the airport and I sanitized and masked up for the Uber ride to the airport. 

    I probably panicked more in the airport than I did in the Uber, or on the plane. I chilled in a Minute Suite, which gave me some comfort, and then the plane ride was awkward. Some passengers masked, others not. I distinctly recall seeing a couple with a child, and they were all unmasked. I thought to myself: "We probably look dumb to them in our Pandemic Chic accessories.” The plane was fuller than I would have liked and I remember thinking "Passengers are NOT 6 feet apart in this thing." I wasn't about to make a scene, though, I needed to get on back to Cali, and NOT in handcuffs, if I could help it.  The flight felt long.  I didn't remove my mask at all. Not to eat, not to drink, nothing. This was probably super unhealthy, but I wasn't chancing breathing "sickly air". I slept most of the flight and I woke up to change gloves once and I kept my hands folded in my lap.  I didn't watch anything on the in-flight entertainment center or any of that. I just wanted to GET there. 

     When I landed, I bolted to baggage claim, grabbed my huge bag off the belt at the claim (after what I'm sure was a 'Cleopatra'-length wait), and darted outside. I walked to the outer curb waiting area for "regular cars", and the traffic was incredibly light for that time of day.  I know for sure that it was a weekday, and I want to say it was late morning or early afternoon...I can't remember.  I remember snatching off my face mask and inhaling the saltines I had in my carry-on. I also guzzled the bottled water they'd given me on the plane. Then I was breathing. The air felt like...salvation. It felt crisp and cool on my face, and the relief after spending hours in that mask, even sleeping in it, was something I'll never forget.

    I spent the first few weeks home panic-buying. I bought rice, flour, powdered dairy items, meats, frozen vegetables and fruits, canned goods, I mean, you name it. My dad was PISSED. Makes me chuckle to think about it now, because I really felt like it was one of few things I could control during that time.  Scarcity was looming, and I felt like entry level preparedness was the only weapon I had in the fight against, well, COVID and all the mayhem it brought with it.  The stores were crazy. I wasn't watching the news as much any more because everywhere I turned there was gloom and doom and hardship and conflict. It was starting to make me feel helpless and hopeless. My auntie asked me to create a short slideshow tribute film fo my grandmother's service once we actually got the ok from the funeral home to hold our service for her. Late July was the soonest we could do it.  I combed through soooo many family photos, and it was nice to see how much my grandma had done and contributed to our lives. I mean, of course I knew, but having a stack of photos taken at baby showers and graduations and on birthdays right there in front of you all at the same time kinda makes that fact impossible to overlook. A thought that was on loop in my mind since I got first word of her transition was "I'm glad she left before COVID ramped up."

      I was also charged with singing a solo for the service.  I don't sing much anymore, to be honest. I couldn't bring myself to "rehearse", so I just waited until the day of, printed the lyrics, and took the instrumental my friend Walt made for me on a thumb drive (along with a backup CD) with me to the funeral home. We greeted one another wearing masks and face shields and of course, family is family, so we all just fell in, but having to lean in to hear one another over and over because the masks muffle our dialogue was a bit of a drag.  Awkward as it was, we still embraced.  We filed into the venue and our beloved "Honey", Mom, Grandma, Granny, or just plain Ruth was not in her casket in the room with us.  COVID restrictions prohibited this. Some of us stood up to speak about the impact she had on our lives and the memories we will recall over and over throughout the rest of our lives. I sang.  I kept my eyes closed because seeing everyone emotional would have made it impossible to finish the song. I finished, and took my seat. I'm probably not correct about the order, but the tribute video played and everyone chuckled in spots or had to wipe away more tears...myself included. I used John Mayer's 'You're Gonna Live Forever in Me' to close out the medley and it was placed perfectly. My grandmother chewing her sugar free gum and riding in the passenger's seat of my Aunt Tammie's car, turns around to smile at my cousin filming her in the backseat, then faces front and the video fades to white. At the close of the service, we filed out of the funeral home, piled into our cars, and went over tho the burial site.

    After my grandmother's service, I tried to stay busy with music and shooting my first ever music video! That is a highlight of the entire era. Saw some of the people I love most in the world.  They stood up for me and showed their true support in the middle of a pandemic. My budget was small, my production was of the "out the mud" variety, but we did it. I may have lost heart in all this had I not seen all their beautiful faces while all this was going on. Jay Dixon, my partner, and visual content creator insisted that we not let anything at all hinder us from going forward.  We hit hurdle after hurdle and he was right there.  Even with his own commitments and his own amazing projects in the works,  he came through to help me build out what would be a music project I could complete on my own terms, to my own standard, and with more inspiration to create and education to structure my company and my project in the ways they deserved to be. Jay is FULL of brilliant ideas. Like back to back.  They never stop coming. We planned to move on the project when the travel restrictions were lifted and when we could safely do so.

      I can't tell you the first indication that I had contracted COVID-19. I honestly don't recall. I do know that it wouldn't be until a full month plus after the video shoot that I felt a heaviness in my chest that sent me to the ER. No one else that had been on set had fallen ill within that time. I explained that I had been in the company of others over a month prior, but the doctor said we would have known by now if any of them had contracted COVID from anyone on set.  They ran all of the tests, and found nothing. No indication that I'd suffered any heart event, or had any fluid in my lungs,  nothing. They even checked my legs.  Nothing. They sent me home with some paper that explained the nature of a panic attack and insisted that I wash my clothes immediately and shower once I got to the house, which they didn't have to tell me because hospitals=yuck to me, so that's a given no matter what. I felt better just 2 days later. I think it was mental, because around the 3rd day, I felt depleted. I don't think the worst of it happened to me that day, either.

     If I remember correctly, there were around 5-6 more days of hell. My heart rate was just incredibly high, and my chest felt like there was a compressor or limiter on my lung capacity all day.  Everyone in the house was sick. I went straight to Amazon for everything from personal steam inhalers & vitamins to  humidifiers & heating pads.  The fact of the matter is that hospitals were turning ambulances away.  Help wasn't coming. I worried and fussed over my parents, while I had it the worst. I slowed down my pace, because my heart was going nuts, and I would breathe deep often throughout each day.  My dear aunt Tamelia told me to do this, to force the issue no matter what, and I listened. I inhaled steam from a hot pot of water with essential oils (peppermint, rosemary, or oregano) in it. I drank my trusty Ginger tea with lemon and turmeric, and I had so much of my mom's homemade chicken soup that it would shock you. I kept at it, because it was all we had that could bring me comfort and seemed to improve my condition. I talked to God more over these weeks than I have in my life.  I prayed harder than I fought and I still can't believe I experienced that and can talk about it now. I'd like to note that through it all, neither of us ever had a high temperature. 

    In roughly 2 weeks, I was breathing more normally again.  The migraines were persistent.  So was the joint pain.  There have been some other differences I notice also. I feel like the experience has changed me forever. I have had my share of health scares, but this was different for me.  Probably because there was this build-up of fear and confusion leading up to my falling ill.  Once it came upon me, there was nothing I could do to distract myself from the reality of it, as I had done in the months prior. I just had to host it, until it was ready to leave.

    In the weeks following the worst of it, I found myself afraid to leave home at all. I mean we absolutely could not for like a full month after we felt good, because we just wanted to be sure we were good before going out into the world again. My sister Cathy and my nieces Jasmine and Kiara were finally able to get together with us again.  My best framily Amanda and her boyfriend Kelly had the sweetest baby girl Noah on my birthday (Feb 1) in 2021, and I wouldn't even see her until May of this year.  I was ready to be done with feeling emotionally drained, mentally overwhelmed, and socially disconnected.  Thankfully, there have been opportunities more recently to see my loved ones in person and move around the city to get some things done. This experience has changed all of us, and my prayer is that those of us who are having trouble getting balanced out mentally have the capacity to acknowledge that and seek help if needed.  COVID showed up unannounced and overstayed, and I never want to host it again EVER. It's still moving around out here, and I'm not gonna tell anyone what to do, but the fear is justified for those of us who had a more severe case of it to wrestle with. We gotta take care of ourselves, take care of our loved ones, and educate ourselves and one another as much as we can about the best ways to safeguard against it.  I love you all, and I wish you health, happiness, and success in all things good.