Around this time four years ago, the world seemingly shut down. What was ‘normal’ in what I call ‘the before times,’ became life-threatening. Businesses shuttered their doors, people hunkered down at home, fear rose to cataclysmic levels. Store shelves emptied as people hoarded what they could. I imagined that if someone were to fill a time capsule for folks to find 100 years from now, that would represent the COVID years, it had to include rubber gloves, hand sanitizer, masks and toilet paper. That last commodity seemed to be the most treasured. Since I am in a high risk group as a heart attack survivor who was also diagnosed with COPD, I did my best not to be around people early on. A friend who was going grocery shopping asked if I needed anything and I replied “Toilet paper,” thinking he would pick up a few rolls. To my surprise, he returned with a 12 pack. I laughed as I told him I had never owned that many rolls at a time.
Good things happened as a result as impromptu sidewalk, patio, virtual and balcony concerts showered the various communities with the healing power of music. People began to appreciate the simple things such as gardening, walks in a park or bicycling down less crowded roads. Zoom parties allowed people to celebrate life together.
A few months prior to the announcement, a new leaf blossomed on our family tree as my grandson Dean was born. Lucky me, I live about 30 minutes from my son and daughter-in-law so I was over there often. Less than two months later, we thought it was wise for me to limit my contact to Facetime. My heart was sad, since it was hard to miss out on baby snuggles. Daily, I would create videos with nursery rhymes and songs for them to share with my little joy boy. 11 weeks later, they made the executive decision that I could come over while wearing a mask, and in order to hold him, I needed to rub hand sanitizer on my hands and arms and the wear a blanket over me. I cried. My daughter-in-law is a teacher, so she worked from home, setting up her virtual classroom in an extra room. As a therapist, I did the same, offering telehealth sessions for my clients. At first, I thought it wouldn’t feel intimate enough, speaking to my clients on Zoom, but many of them actually liked it better, since they didn’t need to drive to my office. It also gave me a window into their worlds, as I could see where they lived and often was greeted by a dog or cat, and in the case of a kid client, a bearded dragon name Leo who lives in his bedroom.
In 2021, I wrote a piece called Thoughts on Re-entry Hesitation. In it, I pondered the impact that COVID had on the human population from a socialization perspective. Could we return to some sense of normal interactions, healthy enough to engage in loneliness combatting hugs? Fully vaxxed, I hug at the comfort level of those I ask to embrace. Another inspiration knocked on the door with these meanderings that reminded me how my priorities have changed.
In early 2022, these words came to me, as I wrote about being a social butterfly with folded wings.
The Muse spoke to me more than 24 months into the pandemic.
“The calendar reads April 11th, 2022, a bit more than two years into an event that has changed life as we know it on the planet. When the news began to circulate that a disease was rampaging through the world, sweeping people of all ages up into a funnel cloud of death and destruction, I was determined not to let it (to the best of my ability) touch me or my family. Some of my friends and family have healed after contracting it and blessedly, no one in my immediate circles as died as a result. Loved ones of friends have tragically, succumbed.
I prayed for protection, for safety, for healing. I envisioned a healing temple into which I invited ‘everyone I know and love, everyone they know and love and so on…’ I saw the Big Blue Marble embraced by angelic wings. Does it sound like cosmic foo foo? To date, (with the help of medical science as well as spiritual interventions) I have remained COVID free as have my son, daughter-in-law and grandson who I see nearly every day, as I am one of his caregivers. I received the vaccines and boosters and still wear a mask when in public buildings. I take immune boosting supplements. Those things are easy.
The more challenging preventatives include remaining home far more than I did ‘in the before times’. I work from home and my computer has become a gateway into seeing clients, holding meetings, teaching, doing promo work and writing articles. I quit the gym and do home workouts. This social butterfly misses the community contact I had a few years ago when I facilitated Cuddle Party workshops, offered FREE HUGS events and attended house parties, concerts and gatherings. In early 2020, that would have been horrifically unthinkable to ponder what it might be like in early 2022. Now I have come to accept it as the ‘now normal’. I am easing my way back out into the wider world.
I have surprised myself with how well I am managing solitude. I thought I would crave contact, but instead, am enjoying living in my own temple/ashram/haven. I have turned down invitations to get together with all but a select few. I am napping more, praying more, meditating more, reading more, enriching myself from within.
I envision a time when we will be safe to embrace heart to heart. I will emerge softer, more leisurely and slow paced. I wish that it hadn’t taken a virus to make it so. Om Shanti.”
I was grateful that our family had steered clear of COVID, until it showed up at an inopportune time. At the end of April of 2022, my son, daughter-in-law and I succumbed. My granddaughter Lucy was about to make her entrance into the world. Blessedly, enough time had passed since his diagnosis that Adam could be in the delivery room with Lauren while her parents and I took turns watching Dean who eagerly awaited his baby sister’s arrival. Once she came home, we needed to mask up around her for another 10 days. A minor inconvenience to protect her. Knock wood, she is the only one who has not contracted the virus. Perhaps she had Lauren’s anti-bodies to protect her as well.
We had minor symptoms, mine aided by a five day course of Paxlovid that kicked the virus to the curb, never to return.
Fast forward and it is now 2024. COVID has been demoted from pandemic status. Most of us are out and about, masks are rare. I hope that the lesson isn’t lost and we forget that we belong to each other and are responsible to each other.
Another insidious virus is hatred. Is there a cure? There is no vaccine for it. I have been told that calling it out is divisive. Quite to the contrary. Shining a light on racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, and anti-Semitic attitudes, words and actions is necessary for it to be obliterated. Perhaps I am naive to believe it is possible to live in harmony. I encourage people who need not worry about being assaulted because of the color of their skin, or culture of origin, to step up and speak out. It’s hard to comprehend how someone could attack people because of their appearance. We all owe it to each other to protect those who are vulnerable just as we were called on to do, with COVID. The truth is, none of us are immune.
Instead of succumbing to hatred, how about if we treat each other as if no one is expendable, since every human being is someone’s beloved family member?
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This Post is republished on Medium.
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Photo credit: Unsplash
