A Lesson From My Italian Grandparents House During the Coronavirus Quarantine

Entering the house just before lunch hour, there was always a fresh loaf of bread on the counter next to creamy butter. In the refrigerator was fresh orange juice to wash it down. “Eat some bread, Tracy” my grandfather would say. My grandmother, who was housebound due to arthritis, was sitting in the living room watching TV until she was given a 15-minute notice to have the chair lift her mechanically to place her in front of a walker to walk slowly into the kitchen to join a full table of her grandchildren for lunch.

After lunch, my grandfather took a nap and my grandmother returned to her chair to say the rosary. The house was closed off to grandchildren and children for two hours until 3 p.m. when you were welcomed back in to have freshly percolated coffee and some type of sweet or even more bread and butter. My grandfather returned to his acre garden and my grandmother hosted anyone in the living room who wanted to stop in for a cup of coffee. The sacred rest hours were done, and everyone returned to normal, full of joy, and conversation again.

This scene reminds me of this period of time for Americans and Europeans living with the Coronavirus quarantines. Just like the darkened hours of my grandparent’s living room for two hours each day, people are told to stay away while others rest, stay healthy, pray or read, and have their own personal time. In the near future, like my grandparent’s house at 3 p.m. every day, the window curtains and doors will open, loved ones and friends will mingle and mix, hugging and laughing, and having fresh conversations, happy for the time to be together again. Until then, this serene and darkened period of life is essential for everyone’s well being as hard as it is.