The world went quiet. Everything stopped. We isolated. No friends, no neighbours, no dancing, no grandchildren, no meetings, no appointments. Only groceries and pharmacies. Twenty-four hours a day, 7 days a week—just here. I wrote and wrote and wrote and wrote every day. Watched TV at night. Masked outings. Sanitized and washed again and again. Scrubbed down ourselves, the house, the groceries, the mail. Watched with horror as people died and the numbers went up. Gruesome stories on TV and social media. I chipped a tooth from grinding my teeth, my hair started falling out. I was nauseous.
Then we relaxed a little. Extended our bubble to family and grandkids. Kisses and hugs healed our anxious souls. We publicly dined—outside. We took long walks distancing from others. We met with neighbours outside in circles with distance. Then we ate inside—twice. Nerve-wracking! People coughed or sneezed. Good news…. First draft of my book finished.
Then we decided it might be time to move. Why??? We are older, our place is big, too much gardening, want to be closer to grandkids. Found ourselves walking in and out of houses. People walking in and out of ours. More masks, more sanitizing. Selling our precious items of a lifetime online, from the garage. Trips to the thrift store; trips to the dump. Soon we will move. More stress, more teeth grinding.
Here’s to the next six months.