My Summer (actually My Six Months) of Staying Put
Retired and living in the Chicago area, we are fortunate to be able to spend some weeks away from the cold and snow each year. This year we choose the paradise island of Hawaii. We met friends, dined out, sat on the beach reading, played in the ocean, floated in the pool, marveled at the tropical flowers and absorbed the magical, serene island atmosphere.
On February 29th we headed home with the expectation of meeting up again with family and friends. But that was short-lived. By March 11th we were quarantined.
Our home became our everything. We rarely ventured out. We spent the next months reading, watching Prime & Netflix – watching way too much Prime and Netflix – cleaning drawers and closets and ordering groceries online. We only glimpsed our children and grandchildren as they left needed supplies on our porch. Neighbors were as isolated as we. My husband always did his reading in the family room. One day I found him in the living room – – he told me he decided to go on vacation.
Finally the weather began to warm, and neighbors ventured out. The streets outside our home became congested not with cars, but with people. People walking, riding bikes, inline skating. Neighbors who had never spoken waved as they passed one another. Slowly many stopped to talk – six feet apart and with masks – and became friends. Nervously, I began to ride my bike, something I hadn’t done in years. I became comfortable and plan to ride longer distances in the Forest Preserves nearby.
Someone suggested cocktails in our shared driveway. Simple rules were set forth: bring your own chairs and drinks and sit at least six feet apart. After months of isolation these gathering felt like a trip abroad.
As the summer progressed, our group of eight grew. More neighbors joined and we even gave ourselves a name – Livin’ on the Edge. (We live on Edge Brook Lane). Neighbors who only nodded at one another before the pandemic, were now celebrating birthdays together.
We watched our honor student grandson jump out of his parent’s car, walk to a tent, get his diploma and jump back in the car. The newest thing: a drive-through graduation.
Tents began appearing outside restaurants. Tables six feet apart, wait staff with masks, hand sanitizers on tables became the latest way to dine out.
We purchased a big umbrella for our patio which was becoming our go-to place to see our grandchildren. My husband call it “our happy place.”
Our lives were changing. These were not the plans we had envisioned for the last six months. Our trip to Wisconsin with our son was cancelled, my daughter and her family did manage to come in from Colorado but couldn’t stay in our home as they usually did. Celebration parties and proms were postponed. Our weekly Mahjong games were no more. We long to travel.
Life did indeed change. But slowly I realized that we really didn’t “lose” our lives as we knew it. We added so much to it.
We love to travel to faraway place and learn about different ways of life – and I am sure we will again. But now I‘ve gained a deeper understanding that there is so much right here to learn about, appreciate and enjoy. New friendships have enriched our lives, a heathier way of living rejuvenates us, solitude refreshes us, and relaxed conversations with grandkids on the patio warms our hearts.
I know also that whatever we, who have not been afflicted with this terrible virus, believe we have lost, it is absolutely nothing compared to pain, suffering – and loss – of those afflicted with it. We pray for them, we wear our masks, practice social distancing, carry and use hand sanitizer to protect ourselves and others from suffering with it.
Growing up in Chicago in the '50's 