It was a month ago on Friday that Ontario Premier Doug Ford cemented our new “stay at home” reality by declaring a state of emergency, with households across the province hunkering down as cases of COVID-19 began to rise.

For some, isolation means just that: completely separate from everyone else. For others, it involves spending more time together, as homes double as offices, jobs are put on hold and school is suspended. There have been reunions, of sorts, as some families chose to weather the pandemic together, while others rely on virtual visits to stay connected.

Some households have found comfort in their spaces, while others yearn for the outside world. Some cling to potential end dates announced by elected officials as a light at the end of the tunnel, while others prepare for the long haul. But in these uncertain times, everyone — whether you’re a family of six or you’re on your own — is forced to adapt.

Here are just a few stories of how Torontonians are coping one month into the battle against COVID-19.

On Her Own

Blythe Winters knew from the get-go she was in for more than two weeks of isolation. She worried the size of her one-bedroom apartment in midtown Toronto — with a kitchen she describes as “the size of me” and a small bedroom that “literally just fits my bed” — could become very stressful.

But Winters’ space has become a haven from the outside world as coronavirus measures persist. The 30-year-old, who has been working at her marketing job from home since March 12, struggles with anxiety and her mental health “goes out the window” without structure. Her normal routine — gym in the morning, subway to work, midday coffee with colleagues, a walk at lunch if time permits, tennis or a workout class or dinner with friends in the evening — is a no-go. Developing a new one has been challenging.

Twice now Winters has been yelled at by strangers for being outside, once for reasons unknown to her and once when she was out for a morning run, which she had hoped would kick-start a new groove.

“Someone yelled at me that I was selfish when I was running so now I’m hesitant to go for a run in the morning,” she said. “I’ll still walk outside, but it’s definitely switched up my routine and I’m kind of out of a routine again.”

The more rules put in place by elected officials, the more daunting leaving the apartment becomes for Winters. It took her 30 minutes on Wednesday to talk herself into going to the grocery store. If she goes a day without going outside, getting back out there becomes even more monumental a task.

“Human interaction is draining these days,” she said. “I’m having people upset with me for my distancing. I’ve had two encounters where people tried to hold the door open for me and I said, ‘Oh, no thank you, go ahead.’ And they scoffed.”

“I just find any encounter these days is so weighted … There are so many other things at play.”

The search for a new schedule will continue for Winters as isolation measures wear on.

“This month I’ve had one too many days where I’ve been like, ‘It’s a pandemic, you can just take this day and be gross and chill,’” she said. “While it’s been nice for an hour, I think ultimately it’s been pretty detrimental, so I think I’ll try to avoid those days as this stretches on.”

For all the worries outside her apartment door, Winters takes comfort in what the pandemic has reminded her about herself, namely that she is not dependent on others being around.

She likes that.

“I tend to get annoyed by people really quickly. I like my own space,” she said. “Especially working from home and seeing other people’s interruptions and my co-workers being like, ‘Oh my god my husband just farted while I’m giving a presentation, I could kill him.’ I’m very happy being alone.”

Party of Two

Trattoria Taverniti has long held special meaning for Gabriella Nassief Borg and Mehmet Shah.

The couple had their first date at the cosy Italian spot in Little Italy. They’ve returned annually to celebrate their anniversary. But as they approached their fifth anniversary late last month, they realized the pandemic was threatening their streak.

So they modified by lighting candles, opening a bottle of Chianti and turning on some Italian romance music, to complement the takeout they picked up from the beloved restaurant.

“It was really nice because we were still able to keep the tradition going,” Shah said.

Adjusting has been the name of the game for Nassief Borg and Shah. Shah is a director of finance at a tech startup called StackAdapt and has taken over the upstairs office in their Bloor and Dufferin-area home, where they’ve lived for two and a half years. The office is where Nassief Borg normally works, as a partnership lead for Yondr, a company that creates phone-free spaces in public settings like schools, comedy shows, concerts and private events. But with no public gatherings to be had, she’s been on furlough for about five weeks.

“It’s definitely been tough to switch gears and still try to find purpose,” she said. “I’m definitely missing the human element I really thrive off normally.”

One working and one being off has created a new dynamic for the couple, as she “orbits around his schedule” because he still has professional responsibilities. She is focusing on home renovations, an extension of a blog she created last fall called STILLIFE, which explores people’s spaces and how and why they decorate them.

“There’s a lot of peace to be taken from being in a space you feel proud of and you feel happy in. I think that’s how I’ve been indulging myself in this time,” she said.

But she has also taken on a lot of the domestic duties. “Domestic bliss,” she joked. “No, not really.”

“Mehmet will share his work schedule with me the day before so I’m not constantly being like, ‘When can you have lunch?’” she said. “It gets old and it kind of feels like all I’m doing is cooking for us. By seeing his schedule, we’ll plan a break or a walk.”

Everything is under a microscope in isolation, they agree. It has forced the couple to be “more chill” and their relationship has flourished.

“You can’t really sweat the small stuff because you’re not going anywhere and, as much as you’d like to storm off or hold a grudge or go to work and come back, it’s like no, you’re here all the time,” Nassief Borg said.

The couple doesn’t expect that to end any time soon. They’re playing the long game, taking things day by day and trying not get caught up in deadlines. They split up news consumption, each paying attention every other day, and report the details back to the other. They’re trying to find joy in thing they loved before the pandemic, like home decor, reading, old records and comic books, in an attempt to stay even-keeled.

“I’m personally preparing myself for a much longer haul,” Shah said. “If you don’t, you might get stuck in this temporary limbo.”

Full House

The pandemic hit home for Aiden, Mason, Shane and Connor Crookston with the cancellation of recreational hockey, a few days before Ontario entered a state of emergency.

Aiden, age 11, Mason, nine, Shane, seven but “almost eight,” and Connor, five, all play hockey. Three of them play competitively. A few days off school wasn’t such a bad thing; they expected to go back after an extended March break. But what was life without hockey?

“My oldest son said, ‘What do you mean hockey has been cancelled? We can’t play anymore?’ I think that, for them, that became more real,” said their mom, Shannon Crookston.

Keeping four active kids busy is a full-time gig for Crookston, who had to seriously reduce her hours and take a big pay cut from her other full-time job, in sales, because of the COVID-19 measures.

Biking, roller-blading, running and playing in the backyard burns energy, as does having brothers to horse around with. The boys are getting along as best they can, Crookston said, but as isolation progresses their anxieties and insecurities are becoming apparent.

“Aiden’s like, ‘It’s lonely.’ How is it lonely? There’s six of us. But you feel secluded from the world that you knew,” Crookston said.

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Journaling — or colouring for Connor — their thoughts and feelings helps, and Crookston and her husband, Geoff, will answer any questions their kids have, albeit being selective with their answers. But sharing their feelings won’t bring their Poppa — Crookston’s father, who is very close with his grandsons — through the door for the first time since lockdown began.

“To not be able to hug him or see him or hang out with him, they’ve cried at night because of it,” Crookston said. “They worry about me not working. My older son has said, ‘Do you need to take the money from my bank account?’”

Crookston shoulders her own worries. She is not normally an anxious person, but sleeping has become difficult. Trying to home-school four boys of different ages in different grades is “beyond challenging” and not worth it if it ends in frustration all around.

As vice-president of e-commerce for Sporting Life Group, Geoff is running the only part of his company that’s open right now. But sometimes, after another meltdown, she would like to be the one able to lock the bedroom door and focus on work.

“I know I’ve cried more, I’ve worried more, trying to just get through the day,” she said. “How do you get through the day without feeling like the worst mother in the world?”

But then there are times when the family sits down to eat dinner together or plays a board game, things they rarely had time for before isolation. Crookston knows she will miss those moments when life gets busy again. Connor recently learned to ride a two-wheeler and ran his first full kilometre as part of a fundraiser for the Daily Bread Food Bank. His brothers cheered him on as he crossed the finish line, with a look of pure joy on his face.

Crookston cherishes those moments now and hopes to take them with her when things go back to normal.

“We still have to do the little things that mean a lot to us now.”

Meanwhile, she’s shedding expectations during this bewildering time. Her house has never been messier. Feeding and entertaining four kids is costly. But she has a roof over her head, a job to go back to and a family to ride out the uncertainty alongside.

“If the house is a disaster at the end of the day, but the kids are asleep and they’re happy, and I can sit down on the couch for five minutes with my husband and laugh, it’s OK.”

Young at Heart

There was hardly a free space on Anita Lee’s calendar before the pandemic.

Mondays, Thursdays, Friday afternoons and Saturdays were reserved for Chinese opera classes.

Tuesdays meant volunteering with Carefirst Seniors and Community Services Association, a non-profit charitable agency that Lee has worked with for 24 years, doing “everything” from visiting with others and manning the front desk to helping out at income tax time.

And Lee really got moving on Wednesday and Friday mornings, with exercise classes at Carefirst or the local community centre near her Scarborough home.

Only on Sundays did the 82-year-old, who came to Toronto from Hong Kong in 1987, seem to rest.

The last month has felt like a different life altogether.

“Now I’m stuck at home,” Lee said.

She went for a walk once, but doesn’t anymore. She felt like coronavirus was all around her, like it was in the air. Lee knows her age makes her more vulnerable to the virus — she follows the news by listening to the radio constantly — and she doesn’t want to risk her health or the health of her daughter, Doris, 56, who lives with her and uses a wheelchair to get around.

“I worry about people, I worry about myself,” Lee said. She has never experienced anything like this.

So Lee stays at home, except for weekly drives to the grocery store, when she suits up in a mask and gloves.

“That’s the only thing I can do,” she said.

She keeps in touch with friends and family by phone. Her tablet has become a lifeline. She can use WhatsApp, play games and connect to the internet. Together, she and Doris use the device to keep active.

“We have exercise at home because we go to YouTube. Carefirst has got a link for exercise. We can do exercise every day at home,” said Lee, who focuses on fall-prevention classes. She has to walk with a cane and worries about falling at home when she’s alone.

She worries about her daughter, too, who has become just as isolated over the last month. They have each other, but their options for entertainment have waned.

“She has nothing to do. She’s only doing some exercise and practice standing, and that’s all she can do,” Lee said. “Writing, reading, some things like that.”

Lee hoped their second month in isolation would be easier, but as she has listened to her radio recently she is starting to wonder when things will change for the better. She hopes it will only be a matter of weeks before she can start to feel safe outside of her home and get back to a semblance of normalcy. She won’t be holding her breath.

What is she most looking forward to when things go back to normal? She laughs at the question. It’s such a simple yet obvious answer.

“I can go out.”

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