Finding Peace in a Pandemic

Kay is my neighbor.

This is the story of how we became acquainted.

She met me at her door, clad in a pastel button-up blouse, a cheetah-print robe, and glasses with frames which extend beyond the edges of her face.

She is a bit shorter than me, even with her hair tied up in a knot.

I had stopped by to offer a small cake.

She bubbled with stories of her five children and the Korean restaurant she used to own here. She is now the neighborhood kimchi dealer.

I left her doorstep two different types of kimchi, rice with spices “for added nutrients,” and instructions on how to cook rice properly at home.

She told me I need a rice cooker as she covered her mouth to hide that she hadn’t put in her teeth that afternoon.

She’s beautiful.

I didn’t get to shake her hand or hug her, but this interaction hugged my soul.

Human interaction feels different when it’s not foisted upon you by your everyday life. I remember when I worked in restaurants, I’d drive home in silence to slowly unfurl the sheer energy of all the interaction.

This drastic global shift has allowed us to show up for one another in totally new ways. It has re-signified the small moments. It’s shifted how we communicate, and why.

 It’s been a reminder to me that I should celebrate the kindness of human connection.

So, today, I celebrate cake, kimchi, and Kay.