From the Heart
“We interrupt this wonderfully normal life …” What?
It was March 13, 2020 – the day I entered The Covid Twilight Zone. My “normal” would never look the same. I often thought Rod Serling would show up and bring us the nightly news. We all found ourselves in a “stranger than fiction” reality show. Only, it was our real life.
I was selling cars and trucks at Don Hinds Ford. I sat in the same pew at church, every Sunday. After yoga, Chuck and I ate breakfast at Ginger’s Cafe every Friday. We had a routine.
I knew the Hamilton County gymnasiums from Grand Park to Finch Creek. I knew baseball fields and soccer fields. Grandkids, Jake and Abby Baker, kept us busy.
We had family dinners full of laughter and chaos.
And I wore lipstick. Funny how that has changed.
A year ago, I planned a girl’s trip to Tampa with my friends, Joan Gamble and Linda Butler.
The day before we left, on March 13, we got a notice that we should mask up for the flight. We questioned whether we should even get on a plane. But we did. Surely the news reports were being a bit overly dramatic.
As we arrived in the Tampa airport, it was eerily quiet. As we made our way through the airport, there was a strong feeling of trepidation. We could not only feel it, but we could see it in the faces of the people traveling and those working at the airport.
We went shopping. The mall closed the next day. We went to the beach. The beach closed the next day. Restaurants began closing. We bought one of the last jigsaw puzzles that Barnes and Noble had sitting on their shelves.
We started feeling a bit anxious. Okay, a whole lot anxious. Would we have to drive back? Would we have to stay longer?
We figured it might be just a few months of interruption to our normal lives. Never could we have been more wrong.
I retired. I had no idea when I clocked out on the 12th of March that I would not be going back … except to clean out my office.
For three months, my roots told me just how much gray I had in my hair. I told my hairdresser, Deb Alvey, to put me on her appointment book the minute she was allowed to open up. I would come in at midnight if need be.
My closet got a makeover. I call it “walk to the park” casual.
I only wear eye make-up. Why bother with lipstick?
When I put my hands in my coat pockets, I pull out a mask or two. Look in the console of my car? There are at least six masks.
I often think, “Does my mask go with what I am wearing?” And I chuckle.
We haven’t had a family dinner since Christmas 2019.
The truth is I am so over the words and phrases … pandemic, unprecedented times, canceled, flattening the curve, herd immunity, social distancing, Zoom meetings, virtual, and a whole slew of others that have become Covid Profanity.
I want to hear and say the words, “Come on over, you all are invited. It’s on my calendar, I’ll meet you there.”
I want to sing, “This is the way we go to church!”
I want to compliment the smile someone is wearing.
I want to hug until my grandkids say, “Enough, Grandma!”
I know last year’s normal will never be my normal again. I also know that I will never take for granted sitting on the hard gymnasium bleachers or sweating at a baseball game.
I want to recognize people and not have to apologize for not knowing them OR calling them by a name that is wrong because they aren’t who I think they are.
A year ago, I had no idea it would be my last week of normal as I knew it.
I sure miss my old normal. It was a wonderful normal. I’m sorry I did not appreciate it as much as I should have.
It was good knowing you, old normal. Hello, new normal. I need to get a few things straight with you.