April 8, 2021
I find it ironic that, because of the timing of this directive about how I manage time, I am having trouble finding the time to write it. April 1-8 landed between the conclusion of a 2 ½ hour road trip (our trip since Dec 2019) and an upcoming, shorter in-state trip. For the first time since the pandemic hit, the list of things to do feels overwhelming. My personal goal has been to avoid a return to my to-do list-driven, hectic, pre-pandemic life, and my delight in the new freedom brought by vaccination is tempered by fear that my goal is already slipping away.
As a white, privileged, financially secure retiree, March 2020-2021 slowed my life in ways I will remember with gratitude. With no driving to events and appointments and less time devoted to grooming, housework, and entertaining, the pandemic gave me more personal time that I was free to spend (or not) as I wished. I literally attended some zoom events with a sweater over my nightgown. I shopped online, with groceries delivered by friendly Instacart drivers or put into our trunk in the pickup line at Meijers. Amazon became my first “go to” (I am part of the reason Jeff Bezos is worth $64 billion more than he was before the pandemic), and I can’t promise that won’t continue as life returns to “normal.” It’s just too easy.
Pandemic life became rich in ways I didn’t expect. With the exception of small, delightful deck and driveway events during good weather, L. and I were physically isolated for a year. But thanks to Zoom, we connected regularly with friends and family we usually see once or twice a year. My two sisters and I live in three states. When we were forced to cancel our March 2020 trip, we zoomed on Arrival Day. Since then, we enjoy a two-hour conversation, complete with adult beverage, every week. Distance prevented regular time together in our adult years, and our bonds of love and support are now greater than ever; we will continue weekly Zooms post-pandemic. A group of friends central to our lives 50 years ago now gather every six weeks on Zoom. With no children at home or job concerns, L. and I have been free to spend time this way with no consequences to our responsibilities.
I will also remember the Pandemic Year for conquering the task of managing family photographs we collected over five decades. Twenty-five albums are now reduced to three photo boxes which I joke will be easier to take to the nursing home. In truth, another culling is needed. More importantly, the winter pandemic months became the time I completed an album for our son, documenting his life from birth to his marriage. A seven-year project completed because there was time not spent in other ways.
And so how I spent April 8 reflects the transition we are in…a morning of in-person grocery shopping/errands and an afternoon pedicure (both firsts in over a year), as well as final drafting of reflection materials for an evening zoom discussion group. I managed to drive the car safely and not lose my purse. I began food preparation for a weekend visit by our son, the first since just before the pandemic hit. I can hardly wait to hug him.
My days are full, but the choices are mine. I am deeply grateful for that freedom and realize that for many the pandemic meant less freedom, more responsibility, and increased worry.