I am normally a very upbeat person, always looking for that silver lining like my mom did. (When my son was born blind, my mom said how lucky I was that he was also not born severely developmentally like my brother. Yay!) However, this whole pandemic thing has me down and my consistently positive thoughts are fading away.

My favorite radio station is K-LOVE, which played a catchy song that at first caught my attention by its snappy cadence. It took listening to the song several times before the lyrics became distinguishable. The name of the song is “Truth be Told,” written by Matthew West.

Lie number one is that we are supposed to have it all together. When others ask how I’m doing, I smile and say never better. Of course, this is not true. There were many other times in my life when I was better, such as when Hubby and I went on a 15-day, all-expenses-paid trip to five islands of Hawaii, which I had won on a game show shortly after we were married. That certainly beat out our weekend in the Cape honeymoon! Or when Francis, wearing his little dark glasses, graduated from pre-school with his friend Tim, who was the only African American boy in the school (thus making it easier for Francis to spot him in a roomful of towheads.) Or when Francis proudly gave me the tour of the unnamed computer giant in Silicon Valley where he works now. Or when my daughter, Dinora, a make-up artist, transformed all of the bridesmaids at my niece’s wedding into bona fide models of perfection. Or when Steven excitedly got a tow truck of his own, or Angel became a store manager for a major cell phone company at the age of 20. Or when Marie graduated from the American School for the Deaf after years with a difficult emotional struggle. I was so much better during those times … those memories … than now when I am sequestered from our children and their lives. I do NOT have it all together! I WANT TO PERSONALLY INTERACT WITH MY CHILDREN AGAIN!

Lie number two is that everyone’s life is perfect except mine, so I need to “keep my messes and wounds and secrets safe with me behind closed doors.” My house is undoubtedly messier than others, and no one but me knows Marie’s HUGE, SHOCKING secret. My life is not perfect by any means.

“But truth be told, the truth is rarely told,

I say I’m fine, yeah I’m fine, oh I’m fine, hey I’m fine, but I’m not, I’m broken.

And when it’s out of control I say it’s under control but it’s not, and you know it.

I don’t know why it’s so hard to admit it, when being honest is the only way to fix it.

So, let me be honest. I am not fine, I am lonely, and I am depressed. During this statewide pause in COVID socializing, going out with my best friend, Karen, is not possible. We cannot go out to eat and we cannot go to the movies to get my beloved hot buttered popcorn. I cannot go out with my daughter, Dinora, (although I did sneak my grand kids to Chuck E Cheese.)

Our church does not meet; although it does take place on Zoom. My gym is not open except on Zoom. The professional organizations to which I belong do not meet in person, but on Zoom. This method of gathering does not have the same social outcomes and climaxes with waving to others on the camera. (I have often acquainted a Zoom meeting with the opening of “The Brady Bunch” where all members of the cast are seen together in one large, split screen of smiling faces.) My doctor visits are also replaced by a television version of a check up, which is some ways is great because I don’t have to step on the scale!

Worst of all, I am requisitioned to work from home instead of going into the office. While our office is very strict and business-like, it was still someplace to go other than my tiny desk in our spare bedroom surrounded by the summer clothes that still need to be put away.

So, let’s be honest. I am not fine. Nothing is under control, and that is my truth being told.