So here we are, the seven-month anniversary of not doing things in the normal sort of way, like shopping, or going out for brunch or a coffee, or popping into the library. Doing things with people you don’t live with.
Trying to remember what I last shopped for…oh yeah, stocked up on a few things (only one extra package of toilet paper) and also bought some new organizers for my purse to make it easier to find my phone, cards, Altoids, and keys when I went shopping.
So much for that. Since then 98% of my shopping has been online, no-contact, and delivered. Surprising how something as tedious as going for groceries and household necessities is missed when it’s no longer an option, or what a luxury it actually was to pick out one’s own fruit and vegetables. But these days I’m just grateful for the amazing store employees and delivery service shoppers who have made it possible for one to keep cooking in The Normal Sort of Way.
We’re a high-risk household so we’ve never let up on cautionary measures. Even when my son and his family come over for family fortnights it’s them on one side of the patio, us way on the other. I miss hugs. I miss cooking a dinner that we all snuggle around the dining table to eat. I miss having my granddaughter over to hang out, and getting together with friends. I miss the equilibrium that comes from seeing the whole faces of other people in The Normal Sort of Way, yet I avoid them if they aren’t masked up. I’m missing planning for the holidays.
And then there’s work. Many writers have struggled with finding the words for what they want to say, because it’s been so hard to know what to say in the first place. The pandemic has been a fundamental shock to the psyche.
But there’s been some good things during all of this, too. Working on the garden, which provided rewards both large and small. Watching all the birds and wildlife in the back yard. Tackling jobs around the house I’d been putting off, like painting the living and dining rooms (with paint I ordered online, of course). Finding ways to be at peace and content while doing without so many cherished interactions.
Time works its magic, and, like grief, loss of lifelong routines becomes the new normal. We find other ways to connect, to be grateful, to find tiny, precious still points of wonder and joy. And we keep on keeping on—which, ultimately, is The Normal Sort of Way.
Ah, yes. The Normal Now.
Moving across the US is not easy during this time. Ask me how I know…
Hi Willow! I don’t know how you guys managed that, especially over such a long distance, and I’m in awe. Another friend and her SO planned for a year to move to France, then got stuck here right around the time they finally got their visas. About a month ago, they made some inquiries at an airline and managed to make their “escape.” Of course now France is about to shut down again, putting a crimp in their house-hunting. My travel routine has been limited to regular, sometimes daily trips to the hospital and clinics for my mom, who’s playing whack-a-mole with cancer. Going again today. But the sun is shining and the route is a scenic one 🙂
I also have missed my grandchildren during this pandemic. I got to see 3 during the weekend as all the adults are vaccinated. Hopefully there will soon be a vaccination for the youngest as all 6 of mine are under 10.
I am enjoying your blog, and I am so sorry for your loss.