COVID-19 scary, but we will persevere

Five days into our self-imposed coronavirus lockdown in spooky-quiet South Windsor, that age-old Canadian malady, cabin fever, kicked in and sent me traipsing off through the neighbourhood seeking proof my wife and I weren’t the last folks on this ailing planet.

I found it, and then some, in the form of a noisy St. Paddy’s Day gathering of well-lubricated millennials.

My new social guideline — six feet apart or six feet under — wasn’t gaining much traction with this “party-like-there’s-no-tomorrow” crowd. One part of me, the old-timer eyeballing this spectacle from the street, was decidedly envious. Oh to be so young. Oh to know for dead certain that you’re indestructible, if not immortal. And oh how sweet to not give a fun-loving fig about this annoying party wrecker.

The other part, the grown-up, was less amused. How many of those carefree but reckless kids, I wondered, will head home to mom or off to dear old nonna’s the next day, potentially passing on a bug that could prove lethal for the elderly and others.

Our world has been turned upside down in a matter of weeks by this biological tsunami, but many are having trouble swallowing that news. One of my snowbird siblings checked out the beach in Fort Myers on Sunday morning and found a massive crowd, all jiggling flesh and raging hormones, having fun in the sun.

They weren’t alone. You’ve probably seen those images of drunken British louts, harassing, mocking and clashing with police trying to enforce quarantine rules on the streets of Spanish beach resorts. “Mate. It’s just a bloody flu,” one scoffed. Meanwhile, the Daily Mail was wall-to-wall images of U.K. partygoers “celebrating” till the wee hours in nightclubs. Those images were followed by stark photos of caskets piled high in churches in Italy where COVID-19 has been especially lethal.

Thank God for black humour. Fellow seniors have been sharing online stress relievers poking fun at our collective predicament, as in: “COVID 19, A.K.A. Boomer Remover.”

To be honest, no matter what happens next, we boomers and beyonders, especially in Canada, have had one hell of a run. No world wars. No Great Depression. No major upheavals, apart from 9-11, a tech revolution and our endless fretting over the planet’s future. We had a nuclear Armageddon hanging over our heads for decades but mostly ignored it. Even the Cuban Missile Crisis of 1962, when the world came perilously close to incinerating itself, was a non-event to those of us still in high school and concerned with vastly more important issues, like acne.

Now, for the first time in seven decades, I’m scared. Not for myself. As one septuagenarian buddy put it, the third period is over and we’re in sudden death overtime. We eat dessert before the main course, just to be safe.

I’m frightened for my spouse, relatives and dear friends from Windsor to South Korea and Australia. I’m worried sick about close family members on the coronavirus front lines in Detroit and Windsor hospitals and, above all, I fear for my precious little grandchildren. The one merciful thing about COVID-19 is that it appears, unlike earlier pandemics, to be giving children and most teens a pass.

Some can’t grasp this. But we are, not just at war, but in a state of siege every bit as real as those that befell Paris, Leningrad and Constantinople. We are hunkering down, admittedly in relative great comfort, to fend off an ethereal foe whose silent lethality we are only beginning to comprehend.

Those of us with backyards, no matter how small, are blessed in a situation like this. With the arrival of spring, we get to watch the first buds spring to life. Even the squirrels, nemesis of countless bird feeders, now bring a measure of joy. I feel for those trapped in small apartments and condos without balconies and it’s heartbreaking to think of our most vulnerable, residents of senior homes and their worried caregivers. They are at ground zero.

Still, no population in history has ever been better equipped to withstand a siege. We’ve had time to stockpile food and our precious toilet paper. We have flat-screens, Netflix, Amazon, Facetime, Skype, restaurant home delivery and options for checking on friends and neighbours. Now if only we had enough masks and ventilators. If only we hadn’t farmed out the manufacturing of life-and-death medical supplies to China. Keep calm and hang tough. Life will roll on after COVID-19.