We’re home, we’re stuck and “shelter in place” has gone from the stage of disbelief and enchantment to the now anger and sadness of loss, disruption and frustration. So similar to the ways and stages of grief that’ve been so articulately described in so many other online articles. Things feel difficult, sluggish, messy and people are getting on one another’s last damn nerve at this point.

And then, one swipe up with a finger pops a picture of an event that many, many of the women I know were at over the weekend. Leaned over my shoulder, my daughter turns her head from my screen and looks at my face. “Mom, were you there?” No, I wasn’t. It’s not that I missed the photo op, it’s that I wasn’t there at all. “I’m sorry. Are you mad?”