The View From Here – Dear Diary

Dear Diary –

Day 1003 of the pandemic.  Actually, I have no idea what day it is anymore or how long we’ve been living in this “new” world.

Much of it is starting to feel a bit more “normal” if that’s possible.  Is there anywhere you can’t go right now?

We have our social bubbles, and I feel lucky for that.  I know there are people missing family and friends out of the country.  I can’t imagine what that feels like.

We can go to the mall again, go out to eat and even go see a movie.  Not that there’s that many to chose from.  There are a few oldies I’d love the chance to see on the big screen again though.  Grease.  Maybe the Gilmore Girls finale.

I miss new movies and new television shows, hugs and clear conversations.  Talking to someone through a mask is just not that easy.

My kids are back to school – one in the classroom, one in the virtual classroom.  Both seem to be adjusting well and hats off to the teachers for making this new way of learning fun and safe.

I seem to have gotten used to the social distancing.  I’m not sure if that’s something I want to be okay with.   The circles on the floor of every store reminding us where to stand.  Following arrows in the stores – even though sometimes I rebel and go the opposite way if nobody else is there.

I’ve been documenting this pandemic life since it began, but lately I find I’ve gotten so used to things I almost forget it’s not supposed to be this way.  Are we just getting used it?  Despite the constant reminders to wash our hands, sanitize, and “stay safe”.  Constant reminders that we are “under attack” by an invisible enemy that has taken loved ones, businesses, jobs, security, and so much more.  “Don’t let your guard down.  Not yet.”  At the same time, I think we’re so used to seeing them in so many places, we’re almost tuning them out.  Some call it “pandemic fatigue”.

I’ve found that people’s choice of masks can be a conversation starter.  Instead of “I love your shirt” or “I love that new haircut” it’s “I love that mask!”

Being out doesn’t feel scary anymore like it did when this whole thing first began.  Remember when we were only going out for the essentials.  Once a week. Tops.  We felt like we had to justify what we were purchasing. Justify being outside of the house.

Seems so long ago and like yesterday at the same time.

Yesterday, I joined in an outdoor fitness class.  I got my groove on and tested my two left feet with a Zumba class under the Bluewater Bridges. It felt good to be outside.  With other people. Smiling. Laughing.   

It was enough to forget about the pandemic.  And all the rules in place.  Like wearing a mask.

As I hurried after class to run and grab a white t-shirt for my daughter to use in art class for a fun tie-dye project – I totally forgot to wear my mask.

For a moment, I didn’t think about it.  I parked my car, and rushed into the store to find a t-shirt.  10 minutes before the store closed.  I ran straight to where I knew the shirts were.  I found her size.  I hurried to the checkout.  And in a split second, as I noticed others standing in line – I realized IN A PANIC – I had forgotten to wear my mask.

The mask that I keep with me everywhere I go.  In that moment – I FORGOT.  I didn’t leave it behind to make a statement.  I actually FORGOT.  Until that moment in the checkout.  And my biggest fear in that moment – what are people thinking of me right now?  That I don’t care about others?

Nope.  I simply forgot.  In a moment where I raced around to find a white t-shirt for my daughter’s art class.  Something I would have done before COVID-19 took away normal.  I wanted to hide.  But the store was closing. I needed that shirt.  I apologized for not having my mask.  I felt terrible.  I did.  It wasn’t intentional, yet I felt I was the worst person on the planet. Breaking the rules.  Breaking the law.  I was actually AFRAID for what might happen.

And THAT is something I don’t ever want to experience again.  It wasn’t the COVID-19 I was afraid of – but of not following the rules.

Are we going to be driven by this for the rest of our lives?

Are we going to feel bad about hugging people or shaking hands?  Even when this passes?

Are we going to always feel uncomfortable getting closer than six feet to someone else?

Is this going to leave a permanent scar on our spirits?

The thought makes me sad.

I think we’re making progress and I continue to stay hopeful.

Day by day, right?

Categorised in: Uncategorized

This post was written by Carrie Buchanan