Does anyone else feel like we’re living in the movie Groundhog Day? Cases are down, let’s reopen. Cases are up, close down again, but only sort of. And repeat. Ad nauseam. It reminds me a bit of the childhood camp song we learned from Sharon Lewis and Lambchop. This is the song that never ends... You can thank me later for putting that ear worm in your head!
I’m feeling a bit frustrated with the current state of affairs today. I’d like to rant and rave, but there’s nobody to yell at. Some people are doing a good job of obeying whatever the day’s restrictions are. Others not so much. But it’s not all their fault. Essential workers and the working poor need to go to work to survive. But they don’t get any help with sick days. Vaccines are here. Except where they’re not. And the thinking on who should be in the front of the line seems to change as often as the guidance about what we can and can’t do.
We’ve now had one Canada Day, one Thanksgiving, one Christmas and two (yes, two) Easters where we haven’t been able to gather with family. It’s wearing on me. I look at the weather forecast religiously now, looking for days where it just might be warm enough to consider a socially-distanced back yard visit with a friend. The almost-blooming daffodils just beyond my garden gate tell me it’s getting closer. At least, as I’m on my own time for the next few months, I can enjoy the occasional warm afternoon with a book and a cup of tea, when I’ve put my writing down for the day.
Thank goodness for technology. I haven’t seen one of my sons in more than a year now, and the other one is a front line worker who was treated a COVID case just before Easter, so he decided it was better that he not come to a (currently acceptable) outdoor brunch this weekend. My daughter and I have a LOT of food to eat now. I’m afraid I’ve already eaten the chocolate!
My daughter’s summer employment at a sleepaway camp was a casualty of COVID last year. We are holding our breath right now for this summer. I’ve seen the amount of work the senior staff are putting in (unpaid!) to readying camp with all manner of precautions to ensure the safety of the campers and the staff. At the moment, they think camp will go ahead. We will have to wait and see. In the meantime, as much as I don’t want to see here working at a grocery store or the like, I’ve told her to have a backup plan.
My parents had their first jab a little more than a week ago, and my frontline son before that. That’s two positive bits of news. And in my region, they are lowering the age that can schedule vaccines tomorrow to 60+. Two more drops (they’ve been doing them in five year increments) until I’m eligible. I cannot wait.
I have itchy feet. I’m anxious to travel, but I know it’s unlikely for a while yet. At the rate we’re going, I’ll be back at work after my sabbatical before I have a second dose of the vaccine. Some days, I weigh the risks and decide I should just go somewhere, anywhere after the first one kicks in. Other days, I decide the risk is still too high. It’s like being on a roller coaster – and knowing the rest of the world is on it too. Of course, it’s all hypothetical for now.
Some days it’s a battle to stay positive. But I’m generally a glass-half-full kind of person, so here’s to the day when we can sing together, gather with family, give hugs, share laughter, shop without worry, travel without fear. It’s coming. Not as fast as we’d all like, but it’s coming. I’m sure.
