We’ve been distancing for a full two months now. When we started, the buds had barely begun to peek from the trees and daffodils had just sent up their shoots from the cold ground. And here we are, in the full glorious splendor that is Spring. Trees are in full leaf (or most are) and the forsythia has come and gone, along with the daffodils followed by the lilacs. My iris are in bloom in the back of the yard, though, and they are gorgeous.
Summer is coming. But first. there is the last month of school via distance learning, and then there will be graduation – also virtual – and a long summer of more of the same. It’s unlikely there will summer camp or the town’s ice cream shop gatherings. For sure there won’t be any long-distance travel to faraway beaches. It’s probably not even safe for road trips, though time will tell. In so many ways, this pandemic will forever shape the lives of the kids who cannot enter classrooms for fear of disease. I hope that the children who have worked so hard to go off to school in the fall will have the chance to do so. That we are able to develop a process, a protocol, to keep the virus at bay and allow kids to be kids. Allow them the opportunity to have this moment.
When we all left our respective offices and classrooms in the middle of March, we had no inkling of what was to come. We thought we’d be back in a month. Now that month has stretched to two, and there is a strong likelihood that there won’t be a returning for quite some time. We had no idea how many people would die. We had no idea what havoc it would wreak. We were unprepared and afraid. Now we are weary and afraid.
Someone said that to be afraid is no way to live a life. No, it isn’t. But this is a rational fear, because we live in a country that doesn’t care for its people and the pressure is on to make life “normal” again. So many people have died and so many more will die, because we were unprepared. And it didn’t have to be this way. My kids should not have to live their senior years stuck at home with their miserable parents. They should be making memories to springboard them to their next step. Instead, they are living their entire lives virtually and they are afraid. This is the most hygienic I have seen any of my children behave, ever. And that alone is frightening!
I’m somewhere between relieved that we are safe, happy we are employed and sad that we are missing the human interaction that makes life interesting and fun. But mostly, I am waking up every morning and doing the same things I always do, just from home. Because the more things change, the more they stay the same.
Happy 2 months, everybody. Stay safe.