It’s a good thing we all know that blogs are just one step above a diary (or maybe one step down), and everybody knows that a diary, according to Bridget Jones, is usually full of crap. I’ll just put that out there…my blogs, like my diary entries, tend to be more stream-of-consciousness babble than anything coherent. You have been warned.
I find it very interesting how quickly my own opinion can change. When the coronavirus first came on the scene, I laughed at the news reports. I was highly skeptical and fairly convinced that it was a hoax perpetrated by an evil administration to rob me of my God-given rights and freedoms.
A lot can change in a month.
In February, Joe and I drove to San Diego to help Joe’s brother celebrate two major occasions: His 63rd birthday and his retirement. We had a great time, spent time with Joe’s parents, and started front-loading all of the Baldwin clan that we hoped to put together some kind of surprise birthday soiree for Joe’s dad, who will be 90 on May 1. Come one, come all.
When we planned that February trip clear back in December, our biggest obstacle was coordinating our time off. I used Expedia and Travelocity to book our hotels for the trip there and back. We saved enough money for gas and food there and back. It never occurred to me for a moment that the freedom to travel could ever be removed from the equation. More on that in a bit…
So, we traveled to San Diego. On any cross-country road trip, there are stretches where I get bored with the scenery. I love mountains and trees, so I tend to get bored once we are traveling through relatively flat areas without any outstanding landmarks. At least, that’s usually how it goes for me.
During that February trip, I found that when I wasn’t sleeping (which was a lot), I was unusually interested in just about every area through which we traveled. Maybe it was the way the clouds created shadows on the flats and hills, or the momentary light fog through which we passed and which gave everything the appearance of a Scottish moor (or what I think a Scottish moor might look like based on my vast experience – basically what they made it look like in the movie An American Werewolf in London). I found beauty everywhere. I felt like I was seeing everything with new eyes or from a new perspective. This was pre-COVID 19, mind you. I didn’t know why I found landscapes that had previously seemed boring suddenly so interesting. Now I think maybe God was preparing my heart for what was to come.
We had a terrific, albeit short, trip – headed down on Wednesday, stopped in Cedar City for the night, made it to San Diego by Thursday. Spent Thursday evening and most of Friday with Joe’s parents. Went to the party (double celebration of both occasions) Friday night and stayed at the Marriott in El Cajon. Great music, great food, and a chance to visit with relatives we rarely get to see. Saturday, we went back to Joe’s folks’ house and spent the day with them.
We headed back from our whirlwind trip to San Diego early Sunday, February 16 (left at about 2:30 or 3 am, our usual when traveling). We had just gone through Las Vegas when I received a text from my dear friend Fran’s husband, Marvin. He was writing to let me know that at 11:41 pm the night before, Fran had lost her battle with cancer and had gone to be with the Lord. Needless to say, I was in a reflective mood for the rest of the trip. I thought about how when you’re a kid, you think you will live forever, but when you’re 59 and your 60-year-old friend just passed away, you feel like life is whizzing by at breakneck speed.
When you lose someone, there’s a period of time (that varies by person and by situation) where you see the world in a different light, if in no other way than you realize your loved one no longer sees what you do and they never will again. They are gone and the world is different without them. We drove to Pocatello that day, stopped over for the night, and drove the rest of the way home on Monday. Everything looked beautiful but was different through my mourning eyes. I was distracted for a short time when we drove through one of the worst blizzards I’ve ever experienced. When we took the I-90 junction just short of Butte, the blue sky had clouded over and just a short distance down the interstate from there, we found ourselves in a whiteout. That lasted for about an hour or hour and a half, but by the time we hit Missoula, the wet roads were the only indication that a storm had passed. The sky was blue again. We had lovely weather for the rest of the ride home, save one or two more snow squalls that only lasted a minute or two.
As we drove, we talked about the trip we’d just taken and started making plans for the next one. We were already looking forward to getting back on the road in April.
We’d only been back in Montana for a few weeks when COVID 19 became big news. In just a few short weeks, our world and our way of life as Americans drastically changed and if you’re like me, the changes are scary. It started with the big run on toilet paper – remember how that was big news just a few weeks ago?
We are being told that we will have a “new normal” as Americans. We have had to learn how to “shelter in place” and keep a “social distance” of 6 feet from one another. For heaven’s sake, don’t hug anyone! We are supposed to wear masks and gloves to do our grocery shopping. Celebrities are raising money for the healthcare workers, grocery workers, emergency response teams, and others who are at risk of contracting the virus just to keep the rest of us healthy, fed, and safe. Every company that advertises on TV already has commercials running 24/7 to let us know they’re with us, they are changing to meet the new normal, and “we’re all in this together.”
If you’re like me, you wonder what all these changes mean to the freedom and privacy we have historically enjoyed in our beautiful country. The first blog entry I wrote about the coronavirus, I had to work hard to keep my doubt and cynicism in check. I did so (and continue to do so) to varying degrees, depending on the day. When my inner conspiracy theorist rears its head, my son lovingly reassures me that there isn’t some “evil cabal” trying to strip me of my rights. When I wonder how much of what I’m seeing on TV is smoke-and-mirrors and “Wag the Dog,” I have a conversation with my daughter or other relatives and friends who work in healthcare and I am soberly reminded that no, this is a real thing. It’s not made up. It’s not “fake news.”
When the shelter in place orders started popping up, I thought, “Well, I’m not worried about getting it, so why should I shelter in place.” Then I learned that the virus can use me as a vehicle to get to someone else. Staying home was the best way for me not to give it to you.
Oh. That changes things. I don’t want to be that person who inadvertently passes the virus to someone else, even though I don’t currently have any symptoms.
I get it. And I don’t. And meanwhile, I work from home and we do church via Zoom meetings (praise the Lord for the Internet) and look forward to when the times comes (and it will) when I can gather with my friends safely again and eat and drink and laugh. I personally have been thankful to have a reason not to have to go anywhere or do anything, as it has given me lots of time I’ve been craving for months. Time to process the loss of my dear friend. Time to write. Time to play my guitar and play with my dogs.
I’m not living under a rock. I realize there are a lot of people for whom this virus has meant no work, which has meant no money, which has meant food is running out and bills aren’t being paid, which causes a tremendous amount of stress. I pray that I won’t blithely pass up an opportunity to help someone if there is anything I can do. I pray that things will go back to normal soon. For those folks, if for no other reason.
A lot has changed in the last month. We were supposed to have been in Tucson this week and then San Diego again next week to celebrate Dad’s 90th with him. That’s not going to happen. I have to remind myself to be thankful for the freedom I have always enjoyed. And I have to remind myself to be thankful that avoiding being an unwilling-disease-vehicle is as simple as staying home.
In the words of Tiny Tim….God bless us every one.
I leave you with the same scripture I have left you with in all my past posts: 2 Timothy 1:7. This time, though, I offer the New International Version. I like the wording – speaks to my troubled mind during these troubled times.
2 Timothy 1:7: “For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.”
Blessings to you, my friends.
FroginthePot 