A Time

Last month it seemed a lot of folks were talking about how it has been four years since we (the world) went into Covid lockdowns.  

For me, it still somehow feels odd that it was "that many" years ago and I'm pretty sure we all had our own sort of trauma from it all.

I don't want to get myself too far into the weeds here as that might trigger more anxiety or panic than I'd like to deal with right now but man.... that was not fun.

I remember having these intense conversations with Jason that I now recognize as both of us being extremely frightened but having different reactions to it.  Jason was half prepared to whisk us off into the woods to survive some sort of apocalyptic thing and that there would be military checkpoints stopping us from driving and I remember him asking if I essentially wanted to move in to his place since I wouldn't be able to drive back and forth.

I didn't.  And didn't think it would (or could) get to that point but of course we didn't actually know.  Turns out I was able to drive back and forth from his place to mine, on pretty empty roads and feeling like I was breaking some rule or law.  I remember ordering my groceries online.  Wearing a mask inside my own apartment building.  Carrying gloves and handkerchiefs to touch things.  I remember having bandanas and masks from going to Burning Man and using the bandanas when I went out for a walk.

A walk around the neighbourhood that I would force myself to go on.  Where we would see other people coming on the sidewalk and each of us would give a wide berth to the other, and I would pull my bandana up.

I remember worrying about shortages.  Supply chain.  Not knowing in any way what was going to happen here.

I had friends in the states who lost friends and colleagues in the early days.  I read first hand accounts of what was happening in some of the hardest hit places.  I remember visiting my parents but we would stand far away from each other wearing masks, outside and wondering if we'd ever get to hug again.  My Dad wondered if he'd get to see his grandchildren in person ever again or if he'd die before that happened.

So many tiny tragedies (as the saying goes.)  A collective fear.  Anxiety.  Not knowing.  

The banging of pots and pans at 7pm for our health care workers.

I remember watching the workers pick up my garbage and wishing I could thank them for keeping going when so many people were staying inside and "safer".

I remember a lot of places putting out free courses and classes and singing up for a bunch of them and then not having the energy or patience to follow through.

I'm very grateful that I had Jason to see and be with.  A human to spend time with and touch and talk to in person.  Yes that was a risk but I think I would have lost it had I had to be completely alone alone alone.

Lock down was strange.  I had hope it would nearly eliminate the virus if we did all literally stay inside for two weeks but of course that wasn't actually possible.  Our world doesn't work if no one does their job.  I get that, I do but I wish that naive thought of "we can end this if we do this!"  had come true.

I don't think this is ever going to really go away.  I don't think I'll ever not think about wearing a mask (which I know, was already normal for a lot of folks/cultures and jobs but wasn't for me.)  I don't think we (as a society) have come through this particularly well and this semi-forgetting of what was an awful, frightening, strange, uncomfortable thing is weird to me.

So I don't know, that was kind of a babble all to say hey... it's been four years?  Wow.