A little more than a year ago, the whole world was exposed to a lifeform we didn’t see coming and didn’t understand. No one could explain it and lots of people tried.
Some said it would go away as fast as it got here. Others said to be sure to wash our hands twice as long and seven times as much, leave packages outside for 24 hours, stay the length of a grown man from each other, wear a mask and work from home.
We didn’t take cruises or Uber rides. We cancelled conventions, vacations and Christmas with the neighbors. Businesses that didn’t shutter went on economic crash diets.
We did what we could. We read about a virus we couldn’t see, smell, hear or taste. This was a public health crisis, for sure, but what should we do?
The doom was intense. We recognized that wherever this creepy thing came from, it was seeping into people and locking down their lungs. A person’s gender, color, religion and political bent held absolutely no sway over the hungry virus.
So we Zoomed and Facetimed and isolated and couldn’t wait to tell others what to do.
Most of us made it through last year, and this year there were two vaccines. (Coke or Pepsi?) A third kind of vaccine was so awful we sent it to poor countries. They said thanks for nothing. Rightfully.
Then poof, we were hit with a mutation of the original virus. Then another mutation and talk of booster shots.
It’s been 18 months since all this started and we still don’t know much more than we did in January 2020, although it feels like the pandemic has ended even though the virus has not.
The incredible part of the 2020/21 chronicle is not whether we lived, it’s how we lived. As a country, as a world, we listened to governments and scientists. Even though they were at odds, they offered what they thought we should do. We either absorbed or dismissed opinions and studies and peer pressure. Just like always.
It’s interesting that whether we were vaccinated or not, we were motivated. We saw pictures of Beijing, Venice, Mexico City, cities with horribly dirty air, that suddenly had clean, clear views because people weren’t flying and driving. Yosemite Falls got a rest. Yellowstone quieted. Nature got healthier without us selling tickets to see it.
One-third of our planet was on lockdown last year, and good or bad, it was profound.
As in any emergency, we botched our first response but learned what not to do again. It’s as if unassaulted air led to crystal thinking. We found that accumulation of stuff is draining, and purity is preferable to being a petri dish for umm, stuff. We cleaned up our act.
We learned to think for ourselves. We were frequently clumsy and rarely apologetic, and we owned both.
We resisted bad info, like this was politicians, Scorpios, or anxieties punishing us yet again. We noticed good info, like that life thrives with laundered air. We didn’t blame the victims and we found out how to prevent being a victim.
We’re changed. We’re relaxing. We’re hugging and masking and not being snooty about either.
Our newspaper survived, she’s 10 now and we want to see her through another 10.
That’s what mothers are for.