Exiting COVID-19

It’s been almost exactly one year since I joined millions of Americans in a self-imposed quarantine to protect ourselves from the COVID-19 pandemic that is particularly dangerous for older people. For the last year, I have mostly stayed at home except for the two or three times a week when I would go out for a drive or my once a week trek to the liquor store. The only other time I have been going out is to a parking lot service at our church on Sunday mornings.

But, there is hope for a return to normalcy in the next few weeks. First, spring is approaching and the first crocuses have bloomed in our front yard and the high temperature is forecast to be in the low 60s for the next few days. 

Second, as I write this I got my first COVID-19 vaccination shot about 10 days ago and will get the second in about two and a half weeks. When I add two weeks for the vaccine to reach full efficacy, I expect to be ready to get out and resume some normal activities by mid-April. 

Our minor league baseball team the Class AA Akron Rubberducks will open their season on May 4 and my group has ticket vouchers from last year that will be good this season. My monthly poker group has decided to get together again after a 14-month hiatus on April 16 assuming everyone is fully-vaccinated by then. And, I’m awaiting an announcement about the summer schedule for the Cleveland Orchestra at Blossom Music Center.

All of these activities were cancelled last summer and am really looking forward to them this summer. I’m also looking forward to going the nearby pharmacy where I usually purchase hearing aid batteries, disposable razor blades, allergy medicine and other things that I have had have my son Brian get for me this past year.

I’m looking forward to visiting my barber Margie for a professional haircut and good conversation about her two daughters who are both in media. One is a production assistant for ESPN in Los Angeles and the other is editor of a small-town weekly newspaper in Mississippi. My wife has been cutting my hair for the past year and I am grateful for the work she does, but Margie the barber does a better job with my hair than my wife the CPA.

I’m looking forward to hanging out at a coffee shop with a friend or my laptop on a cloudy, drizzly day. I want to take a car trip later this spring, but I will be careful to avoid any place that is too crowded or is a state where the governor has eliminated a mandate for wearing a mask. I want to visit the Rock Hall and the Cleveland Museum of Art. 

When the weather warms, I want to head for the beach. I want to have a sit-down meal in a good restaurant, something I haven’t done in about a year.

But, most of all, I want to be able to get together with family and friends and exchange hugs and handshakes. Earlier today, I read an article about seven adverse effects of quarantine on mental health and my dangerous spots were having a little too much Bourbon some days and occasionally blowing up in anger at the news on TV. Thankfully, I’ve already cut back on one and will cut back on the other once I get my second vaccine dose.

A couple of weeks ago a dear friend from our church succumbed to COVID-19 after a two-month struggle. He is survived by his wife of 41 years, three children and four grand children. More than half a million Americans have died in the last year from the disease and they are survived by millions of family, friends and co-workers. This has been a horrible experience for the country and here’s hoping it can be committed to history by the end of this year.

On a positive note, I feel a sense of renewal is coming. In the past few months, three new families have moved on to our street, each with young children. Yesterday afternoon, two kids who live next door got off the school bus and their mom waved at the bus driver and hugged her kids. I admit it gave me goose bumps to see something so normal, yet so beautiful.

I believe the quarantine and pandemic have made me stop and appreciate the little things more: the bright sunshine, the crocuses blooming, the chirping of birds—all ordinary things that make me think will get through this trial. And that can’t come a moment too soon.