The Middletown Press (Middletown, CT)
Emerging from life during the pandemic
The rain sounds differently these days. It patters. The leaves are full enough on the trees now to buffer raindrops as they fall.
A familiar sound, yet new to the season. Early in the morning, while awaking, the rain patter comforts.
Next week daily life in Connecticut will return to something that is at once familiar and yet new. After two months of lockdown to all but essential services, the state will start re-opening on Thursday. You can go to a restaurant again, outdoors only. You can see your hair stylist or barber again. You can even shop in some malls or local shops.
But the familiar will be very different — we will wear masks, we will keep social distancing. No searching our pockets for pennies — transactions will be cashless.
And the deadly coronavirus will still be out there, too minuscule to be seen.
I’ve wondered whether people will feel safe enough to go to restaurants and other places right away, if you are fortunate enough to have the extra money to do so.
It’s a fulcrum moment — looking ahead to what life will be like, and looking back to consider what we have learned in our two months of lockdown.
I turned once again to what I call my “readers think tank” — a group of readers who have interacted with me for various reasons — to hear their thoughts on what they look forward to the most, and what realizations came with isolation.
Most are not in a rush for everything to reopen.
“Until we have a vaccine that has been administered to almost everyone in the U.S. I’m afraid the phased re-openings with an ongoing threat will result in only minor changes for me, and many other citizens. I will try to avoid public spaces with large groups of people,” wrote Brian Sherlach of Redding.
“I have a fear that as restaurants in a town reopen, if there is an outbreak of infections connected to one restaurant in the town, residents may avoid all restaurants in the town,” he said. “The costs associated with having to reopen and close multiple times could cause these businesses, already facing extreme financial hardships, to have to close.”
Thomas Witt of Middletown is concerned that people won’t realize it’s not yet “business as usual,” pointing to other states where people have swarmed beaches and ignored social distancing and face masks. “I am all for re-opening. But we all have to be responsible and follow state guidelines so we all stay safe. The last thing we need is a spike or resurgence of COVID-19 caused by our own actions.
“This disease is not a nuisance. It is a vicious killer.”
Jeffrey R. Heyel of Danbury agrees that “we have to find common ground and strike a balance between re-starting the economy and preserving lives.” The toll has been devastating. More than 80,000 in the country dying from COVID-19, the disease caused by the coronavirus, and more than 3,000 fellow citizens in Connecticut falling victim since mid-March. “We want everyone back to work, but not at others’ expense.”
He mentioned a “continuing struggle between individual liberty and public safety” dividing our country. This is perplexing, isn’t it? I’d like to believe in the innate goodness in people, but that gets tested by those who put their temporary inconvenience of wearing a mask above everyone else’s health.
Patricia Garcia of New Haven is continuing to shelter in place. This week getting an X-ray of her broken arm was her first foray out since the lockdown.
“Not sure about the reopening yet, as other countries (Germany comes to mind) are having a huge number of new infections since opening up,” she emailed.
Mike Hodish of Bethel is in no hurry either. He was surprised by how much he enjoys being home. And he discovered something about himself.
“Some of the activities that I have considered core to my identity, I am not missing in the slightest! I guess it is time for some new interests,” he emailed.
He realized he was doing those activities, which his dad had introduced him to, because they made him feel closer to his memory.
“Now, I find myself locked out of some of these activities and interests, and realize I don’t miss them. Dad is still dead, but I can still conjure him up at will,” Mike wrote. “It doesn’t require participating in what was once a shared activity.”
Deborah Weir of Greenwich made good use of her lockdown time — she finished writing a book, “hilarious stories about my trouble-making brother,” and now “My Brother’s Secret Life: Adventures in the Heartland” is available on Amazon.
“I look forward to sharing it with friends when we are able to socialize,” she emailed.
Sandy Graniss of Ridgefield coped with the lockdown by remaining as “present as possible and not thinking ahead. That’s crazy making for me.”
Gratitude enriches life in the present moment. Sandy is grateful to have her 25year-old son Ben, who is furloughed from his job in Massachusetts, sheltering at home, and for their recently rescued dog, Lucci.
There’s “Tai Chi, longer days (and) abundant fresh food.”
She’s looking forward to “going to church and giving/receiving random hugs.”
We need that personal contact.
Brian of Redding misses family gatherings at least once a month with siblings and parents who live nearby.
“Virtual visits have been helpful, but certainly not the same as gathering in person,” he wrote.
I know this to be true. Daily Facebook Portal times with my 19-monthold grandson, Gabriel, are delightful, but cannot replace a big hug.
Jeffrey of Danbury misses “the simple pleasures of dining out with my wife or socializing with friends over a cup of coffee after work at Starbucks” and thanks all the “rockstar” baristas.
The lockdown has brought “an eerie peace,” though. “A throwback to quieter times in the Danbury area when Interstate 84 wasn’t backed up, most businesses were closed on Sundays and families dined together… maybe we all need to slow down a bit and rethink our priorities.”
And that’s how we keep our equilibrium — amid the staggering number of deaths, devastating unemployment, daily disruption and great need, we recognize and appreciate the affirmative. Even if it’s as small as the patter of the rain.