I have been contentedly married for over five decades. As in any marriage, there’s been frustration, and our union has featured lots of bickering and arguing, usually about petty issues and housekeeping chores. Although these squabbles were irritating, we usually developed a kind of amnesia afterwards—so much so that often we joked about some of the sillier dustups. After one fight, I wrote down some of our most ridiculous recurrent topics: a hard rain vs. a steady rain, taking I-95 or the Florida Turnpike, full vs. stuffed. and whether Eva Braun was really in love with Hitler. Once on a long drive, I mentioned a conflict close friends were having in which the husband discouraged his wife from driving. I took her side and my husband took the husband’s. Our fight lasted almost 50 miles.
Unfortunately, frustrations have increased in this time of isolation. There’s a daily round of arguing about keeping the house clean, shopping for food, and controlling the television. These arguments can reach a fever pitch. Once, early in the lockdown, we argued because my husband felt that leaving the house to buy lox and bagels counted as an emergency errand. Like many a skirmish, these squabbles are very passionate. But unlike a world war, the battle is soon forgotten and all is well.
When I enter the National Park of Frustration it is dark, and difficult to find my way. The inky and stormy atmosphere impairs my vision and my judgement. Through the darkness I see neon signs pointing the way to a narrow path. After I take a few hesitant and insecure steps, the storm clears and the path gets safer and wider. After I enjoy the lush scenery for a few miles, the path again narrows, the clouds darken, and the wind picks up. I have visited this park many, many times. When I get caught in its gloom and irritation, I understand that soon there will be calm and beauty. But around the next bend, darkness and frustration will return, over and over and over and over again.
Sara Gootblatt, 78
Boynton Beach, FL
This story is a selection from National Parks of Emotion, an evolving participatory art project documenting people’s emotional experience during the Covid-19 pandemic. Writing edited by David Goldstein, photos edited by Mindy Stricke.