I miss the Mansion residents, and I miss the work Zinnia, and I (and Red before her) did and do with them. They have been holed up without visitors or talks or outings for several weeks now, and I imagine it will be months before the Mansion will be opened up to visitors,

Even Zinnia, who stares longingly at the door, doesn’t understand why she can’t go inside and get all loved up. There’s a hole in my heart also. I do sometimes feel helpless. But the most important gift I can give them at the moment is to stay away. I don’t know if they understand.

They sure like the dinners coming from Clark’s Pizzaria and Jean’s Place.

The residents are the most vulnerable people on the earth to the coronavirus, they are in their 70’s and 80’s, and many have diabetes or heart troubles or other lung or kidney conditions.

I know how hard life is for them, how much they miss their dogs and cats and spouses and children and friends and experiences. It hurts me to see them so cooped up and cut off from the world, that is the very thing that bothers them the most.

They are stoics; they accept reality and are grateful to be well cared for. I am coming to grips with the fact that it may be a long time before I can visit them or do my work with Zinnia there, but I will not walk away from them or abandon them.

Acceptance is my job now, and in many ways, I am helping them more than ever because I am needed more than ever. I feel the same way about the aides, who also need our support and acknowledgment.

We bought them all fresh scrubs, lots of masks are on the way, I’m looking for some leggo sets for their kids (the aides). The residents have the books, movies, and painting materials they need; I don’t know if they will be permitted to garden outside or not.

I have a stream of different and delicious meals and desserts lined up, I am getting them local papers every week, and soon I’ll be looking for some summer sneakers and light blouses and pajamas.

Everyone who needs an air conditioner has one; we bought hairbrushes and toiletries, anti-bacterial soap, and shampoo.

I’m in touch with the aides and have adopted a Pen Pal, Georgianna. Today, Zinnia and I visited the Rainbow Connection flag, Maria, and I made two weeks ago. It is there every day so that the residents know we have not forgotten them and that we love them.

Zinnia can’t quite understand why she can’t go inside and lap up the crumbs they drop for her, but she is a good, sweet girl and waited patiently outside, content to just be seen.

Thanks for supporting this work, it means a lot to a lot of people. Thanks for joining the Pen Pal program, they love your e-mails ([email protected]) or your letters: The Mansion, 11 S. Union Avenue, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816,

This is a marathon, not a sprint, and I will never walk away from them, at least not as long as I can walk. If you wish to support this work, as you have been doing, you can send a contribution to me via Paypal, [email protected], or by check, Jon Katz, Mansion Fund, P.O. Box 205, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.