It’s been almost five months since you last heard from me. On May 14 I posted my blog about perspective, about looking up. At that point in time, I’d been staying in, at home, and only going out when necessary. I had toilet paper and I was safeguarding my Lysol Disinfectant Spray. My home stay was by my choice and at government request. Request? Order? Suggestion? I was free and yet confined. Now it is October. I am free, though a little constrained. I’ve stayed home before at the government’s request. And I’ve evacuated at their suggestion. In all, though, my home is my refuge.
I believed in May that I would remain at home and closely guard my visits and travels, at least until Christmas. I have traveled, though, more than I thought I would. I have been a part of celebrations and watched watermelons grow. I have planted beans and peas. I am cautious. I didn’t much care for crowds before, and I definitely don’t now. It may well be I never again take for granted my freedom to breathe on people. I may forever “mask-up” before I go into what I now consider confined spaces.
I don’t have a crystal ball. I do have a new awareness of what might be lurking in the invisible.
On March 16 I was taking a grandson back to his home in Florida after his spring break in South Carolina. We stopped for lunch at an exit off I-95 near Pooler, Georgia. The first restaurant we stopped at had already stopped allowing indoor seating and was a drive-through only. I stood at the restaurant's entry, trying to come to terms with closed, unwelcoming doors. We did find a restaurant allowing us to dine-in and had a quick lunch with his parents. Then I returned to South Carolina and they to Florida. The rest is our collective history. No in-class studies for the remainder of their school year. No summer trips to Disney, no go-cart racing and no putt-putt adventures. Minutes became days, days created weeks and the weeks flowed into months.
They have returned to school and rock the wearing of masks coordinated with outfits. We, the people of the world, are forever changed because of the new corona virus. Many of us understand what we’ve lost and gained. Many of us are learning what is being lost and gained. All are finding our way back to normal. Normal is adapting. Normal is traveling our way around and through, over and under whatever comes at us. This has been a year of fire, flood, wind and destruction. It has been a year of cancellations, unrest, turmoil and a little chaos. The younger of us are seeing these costly episodes unravel for the first time. Others are enduring these demons yet again.
With this backdrop, I finished my second book of essays and am working with my publisher. I hope “Cultivating, Homespun Essays from Beech Tree Lane,” is available soon. It will be, unless 2020 swallows it into its growing belly of disappointments. Stayed tuned!
You should be hearing from me the first and third Saturdays each month by way of my emailed newsletter. I will be tweeting, instagramming, posting on my Facebook page, and creating book bubbles to promote Cultivating, and Gathering. Find me online at @dianneinhannah.
I’d love to hear from you and how you’re confronting change, overcoming obstacles, and finding ways to keep your boat afloat . . . Email me at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Until next time, stay focused on the important.