Closing the lid on my U-V sterilizer box, I turn to the counter and pluck a wipe from the Chlorox container. I wipe down the buttons on my security wall box, wipe down the inside door handle and the outside door handle, and the handles on the inside and outside of the storm door. I try to remember what else I have touched.

Did I wash my hands as soon as I entered the house and before I put my mask, car keys, and sunglasses in the sterilizer box? I think so, but just in case, I go into my hall bathroom and give my hands a good squirt of the foaming soap. I ordered this soap from Amazon even before my other liquid hand soap ran out, because I wanted something less drying, something that smelled good. This soap foams and has shea butter, and it smells like almonds. Plus the bottle is pretty. I don’t really care that it cost more. What am I spending money on anyway?

I give my hands a good scrub, singing “happy birthday to me” twice over. I really need to figure out a new song for this routine. 

I dry my hands and go back to the kitchen. I think my U-V box is done with the first round. I open the lid. It is a solid wooden box with a lid that closes with a latch. I don’t know where I got it, but I put it away as a Useful Box. Back in March when the Pandemic arrived, I tried out a cardboard box with a lid, but I like this wooden box better. It looks nicer, sitting on the kitchen stool. 

Now I open the lid and remove my car keys and hang them on the hook inside the coat closet. I hang my mask on the hook next to the car keys. I take out my sunglasses and put them in the tray on the table. Then I lay my blue purse in the box, stretching it out and winding the shoulder strap around so it all fits. I have stopped carrying my favorite red purse. It is too big to fit in this box, and I don’t really need all the contents for the short and rare errands I now make. 

The u-v sterilizer light is attached with velcro to the inside of the lid. I can carefully remove it and and take it to the bathroom to insert the charger cord for re-charging, just as I do with my iPhone and iPad. But for now I just press the button to start the u-v light. The button shines blue and I quickly close the lid. There is a time delay before the light itself will turn on, so I have time to close the lid and protect my eyes. I have to trust that the light itself turns on and the u-v does its job for 15 minutes. I never peek. 

While my purse is being cleaned, I pick up the paper bag of mail that I have collected and take it to the study. It will sit there for a day, decontaminating, before I open it. And then I will wash my hands again with that almond-scented soap. 

And Despite These Losses

August 24, 2020

Still I have—-

sunlight on water

a cat purring on my lap

a text of “love you!” from a friend

a hummingbird hovering by my window

an unexpected flower where I had given up hope

the songs I strum on my mountain dulcimer

my daughter’s laughter on the phone 

the full moon at night