PANIVERSARY

Well, flashback time:  One year ago (March 11, 2020) we heard the startling declaration by the World Health Organization that we were officially experiencing a global Covid-19 coronavirus pandemic.  To date,  529,301 Americans have died; worldwide, 2.64 million.

I see there are many "anniversary of the date" stories being published and news shows being produced covering all we've gone through personally and collectively.  It's hard to recap in one pithy blog post.  But anyone can tell you....it's been quite a year.

One year ago in early March, when we started to get a little nervous,  we happened to buy a new car -- not shaking on the deal, but using sanitizing wipes to wipe down hands, handles, knobs, and steering wheel before driving it off the lot.  Hub left the next day with friends for a weeklong snowboarding trip.  I was home alone as the news of the virus rapidly unfolded in startling and terrifying detail.  Schools closed, sports teams suspended seasons, stay home orders were announced.  I recall being alone, afraid, confused.

And wondering....would other plans be cancelled?  With airline tickets purchased and accommodations paid for, one year ago this week both of my sons took off for a long-anticipated trip to London with several other of Son Two's good buddies for a Bachelor Trip to see favorite soccer teams play on their home pitch and have a rip-roaring good time in advance of Son Two's May wedding.  The soccer games were cancelled. Son Two came home with Covid 19.  (Thankfully a mild case.)  The May wedding ended up being scaled back from 250 guests to two, plus officiant and photographer; the family attended via Zoom.  

Son One and his wife stayed in London after the Bachelor Bash for a week on their own, a much needed and hugely anticipated "life goals" vacation, while we hosted the grandkids at our house.  We went ahead with the plan even though by then schools were closed, distancing was in place, and we had to find outdoor entertainment and outings instead of doing anything at all around other people.  We did it and I am so grateful for that week.  I will always remember it as a time of close connection with the girls and lots of fun, creative, daily loving interactions.  Son One and Beautiful DIL practically had London to themselves as everything began to shut down while they were there.  Once home, they showered and ditched their travel clothes before we returned the girls home on March 21.  Thankfully they were well and continued to be.  And that is the last we saw them in person for many weeks and then only very occasionally over the past year.

At that point things grew grim.  And all the days/months have run together.  There were lovely times, sad times, challenging times, cozy times, rageful times, joyful times, and too many times of tearful grief to recount.  Life went on with distancing, masks, caution, Zoom.  

I'm thinking about what I've taken away from this experience personally.  It will take awhile to sort out.  As I said in a previous post, I have a feeling much has changed, but not much of it visible or well-rooted yet.  

I know I am finished with a life chockfull of busyness.  I want a life of deeply satisfying relationships and some greater meaning -- a greater degree of equanimity than has been the norm for me.  All of that takes a lot of introspection and courage to manifest.  I have uncovered a deep fear of being abandoned and alone in the world along with deep issues of trust, so I see that much needs to be examined and healed for me to feel I've gained strong footing in this area.  I've finally learned we cannot place the care of our tender souls in the hands of others, no matter how well-meaning they may be.  I find I need to find inner strength and confidence to know I can make it on my own and can count on myself to a greater degree than has been my habit.  I have gotten this message and have had to learn this lesson over and over and over this year.

I know I am an introvert and, really, this year has in some ways been an introvert's dream.  I'm not anti-social, but I do love lots of "home and hearth" quiet time and that's where I'm generally most at ease.  Unlike others who are so eager to resume "normal" I am hesitant and will be discerning about what normal will look like for me going forward.

I don't mind Zoom, if it is 90 minutes or less and no more than once/day.  I don't miss commuting to places.

I've lost weight.  I eat healthy foods, planning meals and cooking more often. For several months I gave up sugar completely (it snuck back in, but with far greater intentionality about when and how much I eat it).  We found a lovely young family running a small sustainable farm and their fresh produce graced our table until they closed in November for the winter.  I do my own yoga practice twice/week and started teaching yoga myself (!) once/week. Hub and I walk 4.5 miles at the waterfront 2-3 times/week or find local parks and trails to explore on our "day dates".  I am grateful for my health and the time/effort to focus on it.  Anything can hit us out of the blue -- like a global pandemic -- but if I can have impact on my own health by my own actions, I will. 

I have had relationship and family "issues" that have caused grief and sadness, but I have come through it with deeper self-awareness and the ability to own what is mine, set boundaries where needed, and (try to) accept what I cannot change.  As Hub often reminds me, "This is not the end of the story."  Often what is happening in the moment is the way we think things will always be.  But in fact, things are always changing.  I am learning to take a step back, be the observer of what is happening inside and outside of me, and try to let everyone and everything "be".  Ongoing process.

I am incredibly grateful to have my vaccinations and the joy of hugging my grandkids again as things slowly improve.

Deniers and anti-maskers are probably crowing about how they knew it was "no big thing", but to over 500,000 Americans who died (and their families) it was a very big thing.  To those who contracted the virus but survived (some with chronic ongoing health issues) it was a very big thing.  To exhausted and emotionally devastated health care workers it was a very big thing.  To essential workers, many low-wage and people of color, who had no option to stay home to protect themselves, it was a very big thing.  To all of us who took our own safety and that of others seriously enough to distance, wash, and wear a mask for the past year, it was a very big thing.  Some of us sacrificed for the greater good.  That is always a very big and wonderful thing.

Spring is in the air.  Vaccines are getting into arms.  Schools, businesses, entertainments are re-opening by degree.  This is such good news.  It is a welcome pause in the horror movie, but we are not out of this quite yet.  The virus still rages.  But maybe, today, we can literally take a deep breath of gratitude.  And let us never forget the lessons of this long, lonely, amazingly disorienting year.  What have we learned?  How will things be different?  Take a moment to reflect and decide: Who am I now?

At least, that's the view from here..©

Photo Credit: www.pixabay.com