There’s a change in the air. After nine weeks of social distancing, the boundaries we’ve drawn so clearly around ourselves are starting to blur as we consider how to creep forward.
Friends invited us over for lunch last Sunday. We sat at a responsible distance from one another on their deck, while the kids sat in the backyard, also maintaining proper distance. It felt so good to share a meal again and catch up without the aid of a screen, but it’s also a bit draining having to take precautions that would have seemed completely paranoid only a few months ago.
Last night I had two friends over to my deck, where we shared some of Chris’s latest homebrewed IPA. It turned into a four-hour hang-out. At some point, it started raining, so we decided to relocate to the sheltered front porch. I invited them to walk through and even use the bathroom, but I was keenly aware of my effort to stifle a sense of alarm. I didn’t realize the effect it had on me until this morning when I recounted my dreams to Chris. I dreamt that I kept forgetting about keeping my distance from people, and I would find myself without a mask in crowded offices and in the middle of city blocks thick with people.
Today was the first time we got together with my parents, apart from a short sidewalk visit in April. They shared dinner with us on our deck on this sunny, breezy evening. They are nearing 80 and have been keeping almost entirely to their home, so my concern was keeping them safe from us, not the other way around. They were pretty relaxed, though, and we managed to keep a safe distance between us until they were ready to leave. Edwin gave my mom, his Nana, a big hug, and he and I both immediately sucked in a sharp breath. My mom, however, just shrugged and said with a smile, “He’s my sweet boy.”
It’s surprising to me that after nearly five decades of living without social distancing or wearing a mask or thinking twice about the safety of having family and friends in my home, I have become accustomed to the norms we have established since March 14th. I imagine it will be a while before we can get back to that place we were before, and I also wonder what will be forever altered. I do know, however, that I cannot stay cooped up and distanced forever. I will move forward with care.
My Corner of the Village 