Do you ever forget we are living through a pandemic?
A month ago, if you told me that I would pass two to three hours without thinking about Covid-19 I'm not sure I would have believed you. In the early days, it was so all-consuming. I wasn't sleeping well, I would read the news for hours at a time even though every story was basically saying the same thing. Every time I talked to someone the topic would come up. It was as if life ceased to exist outside of the topic of corona.
As we approach the four-week mark of the stay at home order, I read the news less, I talk about it less and I've settled into some daily patterns that have some semblance of normal. Coffee, clean handles, eat, run, walk the dog, eat, clean handles, work on a puzzle or some other project, make dinner, clean handles, read a book and vow to sleep through the night.
The other day on my run, I was listening to music, keeping track of my pacing, watching for those pesky spots in the concrete where a tree root raises the sidewalk just enough to catch a toe and send you flying, and then out of the blue, I started thinking about the virus. It seeped into my escape and I was not happy about it. Then later the same day, I was working on a photo project and when I finally put it aside, it hit me that for a few hours I wasn't living through a pandemic. I wasn't trapped in my house, school wasn't canceled, trips weren't postponed, I was just living.
I started to wonder if this sequestered life would actually start to feel normal. I haven't been to a grocery store in three weeks as we've had our groceries delivered, we haven't eaten out at a restaurant in at least 45 days, and my circle of face to face human interaction has been reduced to about 3 other people - unless you count the delivery drivers. I have time to work on some projects that have been put on the back burner for ages but I have given up many of my passions since they are deemed non-essential.
One day Matt and I were talking to the boys about how before 9/11 you used to be able to go into the airport and wait when you dropped someone off. Oh my goodness, I can't count the number of times my entire family would be sitting in an airport waiting area anxiously awaiting the goodbye that was about to come. And there was the look-back. You know what I'm talking about. You gave your ticket to the gate agent, you were about to walk down the jetway and you took one last dramatic look at your family that you were leaving. There were always tears. Now you just jump out at the curb and head into the airport and that is completely normal. I had almost forgotten the days where anyone could hang out at the airport.
At some point it became normal to drop loved ones off at the curb, take your shoes off at the security checkpoint, not carry liquids in your carryon, bring your own grocery bags to the store, and water your lawn only on specified days or not at all out of necessity. I hope we don't wear masks for the rest of our lives and obsess over cleaning grocery items when they are brought home, but I do think we will come up with some protective measures that will become our normal. Our grandchildren may not know what it is like to shake hands as a greeting, have touched a screen to pay for something or may not think it odd that their health data is tracked on their hand-held device. Whatever it is, we will adapt and one day forget the days when those things didn't happen.
For now, I dream about the day when I'll get to hit the trails for a hike, have a family dinner at a favorite restaurant, sit beside my students at school and help them learn and travel to see people and places that fill my heart with joy.
A month ago, if you told me that I would pass two to three hours without thinking about Covid-19 I'm not sure I would have believed you. In the early days, it was so all-consuming. I wasn't sleeping well, I would read the news for hours at a time even though every story was basically saying the same thing. Every time I talked to someone the topic would come up. It was as if life ceased to exist outside of the topic of corona.
As we approach the four-week mark of the stay at home order, I read the news less, I talk about it less and I've settled into some daily patterns that have some semblance of normal. Coffee, clean handles, eat, run, walk the dog, eat, clean handles, work on a puzzle or some other project, make dinner, clean handles, read a book and vow to sleep through the night.
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| My current puzzle. A woman in London. I have a flight booked for London at the end of the summer - fingers crossed I get on that plane, make my way to the river wearing a red dress and recreate this photo. |
I started to wonder if this sequestered life would actually start to feel normal. I haven't been to a grocery store in three weeks as we've had our groceries delivered, we haven't eaten out at a restaurant in at least 45 days, and my circle of face to face human interaction has been reduced to about 3 other people - unless you count the delivery drivers. I have time to work on some projects that have been put on the back burner for ages but I have given up many of my passions since they are deemed non-essential.
One day Matt and I were talking to the boys about how before 9/11 you used to be able to go into the airport and wait when you dropped someone off. Oh my goodness, I can't count the number of times my entire family would be sitting in an airport waiting area anxiously awaiting the goodbye that was about to come. And there was the look-back. You know what I'm talking about. You gave your ticket to the gate agent, you were about to walk down the jetway and you took one last dramatic look at your family that you were leaving. There were always tears. Now you just jump out at the curb and head into the airport and that is completely normal. I had almost forgotten the days where anyone could hang out at the airport.
At some point it became normal to drop loved ones off at the curb, take your shoes off at the security checkpoint, not carry liquids in your carryon, bring your own grocery bags to the store, and water your lawn only on specified days or not at all out of necessity. I hope we don't wear masks for the rest of our lives and obsess over cleaning grocery items when they are brought home, but I do think we will come up with some protective measures that will become our normal. Our grandchildren may not know what it is like to shake hands as a greeting, have touched a screen to pay for something or may not think it odd that their health data is tracked on their hand-held device. Whatever it is, we will adapt and one day forget the days when those things didn't happen.
For now, I dream about the day when I'll get to hit the trails for a hike, have a family dinner at a favorite restaurant, sit beside my students at school and help them learn and travel to see people and places that fill my heart with joy.
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