There is proof that we are still alive. The coffee pot and teapot are in a different place on the counter each morning. Clothes disappear from the closet and end up on the bed or in the hamper. Dishes are removed from the cupboard, stacked in the sink, rinsed and loaded in the dishwasher, then back in the cupboard. Over time, the soap bar gets smaller. Shampoo bottles have less and less shampoo. Razors get dull. A book, magazine, papers are in different places around the room. The quilt on the chair is higher or lower than the day before. The bed has one more bump or crease than it did yesterday.
Plastic containers get placed in the refrigerator and are half full of zucchini, carrots, hummus, salad, rice. The jar of peanut butter has less in it than the day before. Each morning, the fan is in a different position. The soil of the mint plant is damp from a recent watering.
Grease spots come and go on the surface of the stove. A gallon of milk in the refrigerator has less liquid in it than earlier in the week. An empty bread bag is on top of the trash. The overflowing recycling bin makes it difficult to close the cabinet. The kitchen towels change colors and patterns every few days. Bananas disappear from the counter.
Journals and diaries scattered on the table near the reclining chair get moved daily. The window shades go from closed to open each morning. The tube of toothpaste has less paste in it. There is a new pile of paper on the couch. The remote control is in a different place every day.
There is proof that we are still alive even though we can count the times we have left this space over the last one hundred and fifty days on our toes and hands. There is proof that we are still alive during this global pandemic because each day we wake up and say good morning recognizing and thankful that we are still here.