The One Year Anniversary None of Us Wanted

Getting outdoors kept me sane

 It's been roughly one year since things began shutting down in the United States due to Covid. March 13th was the last day my son went to in person school, and he has yet to return, although he begins hybrid school at the beginning of April. I cancelled my family's trip to Hawaii which, had we followed through with, would have been cut short by several days as the islands started booting people out. Instead, I worked, and I tried to navigate ever changing information about the virus and how to prevent catching it and spreading it. My patients began cancelling, saying they wanted to minimize exposure to people. I wondered how long the world would be like this, how long we would remain isolated. That was one of the worst aspects, not knowing when it would end. It's the ending that makes it easier to endure unpleasant, painful things.

The apocalypse is pretty

I took up cross stitching to pass the time. I re-read my favorite series because it had been a while, and the books always bring me comfort (the Vorkosigan series by Lois McMaster Bujold). I watched the Marvel movies in chronological order. I watched the Star Wars movies in an alternate order, starting with A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, then watching the prequels as if they were a flashback, then resuming them in order. Rogue One was somewhere in there, although I forget where. I tried watching Tiger King and couldn't get into it at all; everybody seemed so sad and desperate, and I couldn't get past their pain. I watched as police officers kneeled on George Floyd long enough to kill him, breaking my heart and the hearts of so many others. I watched people I had known all my life fall victim to conspiracy theories. I watched people shrug off Covid deaths because they happened (mostly) to older people and those with medical conditions making them more vulnerable. I watched as fires ate across the western U.S. and came as close as seven miles of my home, prompting me to pack bags with essentials just in case we had to leave. I watched in amazement as scientists worked tirelessly to come up with vaccines for Covid in record breaking time. I watched an election, and I watched people rage against the results, culminating in the embarrassing spectacle at the Capitol in early January.

At this point, I've received both of my vaccinations. Most of my immediate family has been vaccinated, as have many of my elderly patients. Businesses are starting to open up, although I remain somewhat leery about jumping in. I got to know my neighbors much, much better because there was nowhere to go for the longest time. We just sort of started getting together outdoors, keeping our distance, masking up. We shared food, tea, cleaning supplies. Our kids kept their distance outdoors and rode their bikes and scooters, drew with chalk, kicked balls. Getting to know them has been one of the bright spots in this pandemic, as has the new meditation practice I began in November.

Thank goodness for pets during lockdown

Things will never get back to pre-pandemic normal, but people will soon be able to gather again. Concerts and sporting events will return. Movie theaters will someday be packed with people for opening night of a new blockbuster movie. Airports will be busy, flights will be packed. Masks will eventually go away, although since I was not sick at all last year (for the first time in a long time), I probably will not give up mask wearing completely. I like not being sick. And as the Dread Pirate Roberts said, "It's just that masks are terribly comfortable. I think everyone will be wearing them in the future."

What I'm looking forward to most is returning to the dojo to practice kendo with my friends, going to a concert, going to a basketball game or a football game, traveling on a plane with a nice alcoholic beverage as I begin my vacation, running a race with a bunch of other runners and people cheering us on. There is still no definite end to this ordeal, no specific date when we can declare victory, but there is the sense that it will end, which is a far better place to be than we were a year ago.

February 2021 Reading Challenge

February is a short month, but I still managed to read a few books in honor of Black History Month. One of those books was as long as the month is short--A Promised Land, by Barack Obama. In it, President Obama details some of the time in his youth and leading up to his run for President, and he covers part of his presidency. It's a fascinating look into one of the most powerful positions in the world, and a fascinating look into the mind of one of the most brilliant people to hold the position. At times it can be tedious, and I think anyone interested in delving deeply into politics will enjoy every sentence, but on the whole it's a good read.

The Girl Who Smiled Beads by Clemantine Wamariya is a memoir of a woman who fled Rwanda with her older sister when she was six years old. For the next six years they moved from one refugee camp to another, lived for a while with her sister's husband's family, until they finally found themselves in the U.S. with a foster family. This is beautifully written, and the prose is absolutely magical, and so it makes the horrific parts all that much worse. This one really stayed with me, and I continue to think about Clemantine often.

The Gilded Ones by Namina Forna is a YA fantasy novel about ostracized young women who bleed gold, have superhuman strength and speed, and are trained to fight against Deathshrieks. This novel was just plain fun, and I can't wait for the second in the series.

I rounded out the month with The Killing Moon by N.K. Jemisin. Holy wow, can that woman write. I found the novel a little dense at first, but once I got the hang of the world and the religion, I tore through the story. This one had been sitting in my TBR pile for a while, in part because I wasn't sure I was in the mood to read something about sleep and dreaming. But oh, this is so much more than that. Jemisin never pulls any punches in her stories, which is what makes me read them with one hand over my eyes, peeking through my fingers, hoping against hope that her poor characters will make it through unscathed. Reader, they never do.