The coronavirus has taken so much. Dining out. Nights out for movies. Spontaneous shopping. Ball games. Stress-free outings anywhere. And haircuts. Handshakes. Hugs.
Since mid-March, I’ve been to a grocery store once. To a Target store twice. To a restaurant twice.
Every outing is both liberating and dispiriting.
Liberating because of the obvious. An outing delivers temporary freedom from our new and tiny normal: house, yard and neighborhood.
Dispiriting because heading out reminds what we’ve lost – and that every human encounter may bring harm.
Reversing course in a store aisle to avoid close contact feels abrupt. Rude. And necessary.
Was that a dirty look?
Does he think I stepped too close?
Does she see my mask as an ideological statement?
May I please simply shop without all this mental freight? Please?!
We hang on to “normal,” whatever that was. I’ve left recurring events that occur no more in my digital calendar – a reminder of what was and a middle finger to a virus.
Example: “Choir rehearsal, 6:30-7:30 p.m., Wednesday.”
Rehearsals have been suspended. But delete the event?
No and never.
