The Gift of a Mask

I am part of a monthly "Writer's Salon".  This is what I wrote for this month.

Who is that masked woman?

It is me – reluctantly but religiously

I received my first mask four months ago from Kim Veatch who had extras and dropped two off at my home  with gloves and sanitizer.   We were just beginning to understand the threat of  the corona virus and I was grateful to have a friend who quickly supplied my needs.   

Since then, I have received three more:

 The first was made by Erma, a member of Gender Road Christian Church.  She – like many seamstresses – went into almost manic mask making,  producing hundreds of masks within weeks to supply not just church members, but their friends and families and local nursing homes.  It was impressive.  Her  mask for me is light green with pink flowers and  pleated.

The next mask I received was from Marsha who allowed me to pick my own material – blue.  I tell myself that  It makes my  wrinkly eyes “pop.” Her design is a little different and does  not as heavy on my face. 

My final mask was from Audrey – it is black and came with a pocket and two filters and a breathing valve.  She said it proved that she is  now officially my favorite daughter.

I wear these at church when I go to the outdoor service, at restaurants and stores.  I know that it is important to keep my droplets to myself. While it gets in the way of showing my happy  face and having to rely on my crinkling smiling eyes, it was greatly appreciated  when I attended funerals.  I have been to two pandemic services in which we sat socially distanced and masked in the sanctuary.  There was no congregational singing but the solos and the spoken word of “In the bulb there is a flower” made me so emotional that I was grateful that my sobbing mouth could not be seen – only my watering eyes.

Masks have become a source of pride and judgment.  Now that everyone has to wear masks in stores, it is clear that some would rather not.  So, I have seen men – in particular – with masks worn under their chin and many people not quite covering their noses.  And unbeknownst to them, it reveals their ignorance and self centeredness.

What I most enjoy is the individuality that people can show in their choice of masks – wearing masks that say “black lives matter” or have rainbows or simply say “Masks.”   They might not like wearing them, but they are making the best of a very bad situation.

And so, the real gift of the masks is that it is an opportunity to show love – by giving masks and wearing masks.  I wear my masks very reluctantly, not wanting to admit the reality of the danger of the virus.  And I wear it religiously – as a discipline that ultimately saves humanity and binds us together.