COVID-19 captures my attention. It shelves the drama in my rather idiosyncratic, but not all that unusual, marriage. The virus’s shadow (an absurd image,really) is cast across so many things.
I am power walking these days because my YMCA and its pool, are closed due to the quarantining efforts. Now, when I take my six mile walk, I pass the Canterbury Rehabilitation Center, a site in Henrico County, Virginia, where 28 fatalities due to COVID-19, have occurred. That is almost half of the deaths in Virginia. And I walk by , from what I hope is a safe distance. The facility is about a kilometre from my home. The six mile walk is one of the fortuitous results of the COVID closings. I had inflated the magnitude of the distance. It is not a big deal any longer to do the walk. Already my times are faster.
Earlier, I had posted that my son, age 43, had the virus. He has since recovered.. I avoid contact with my 94 year old stepmother, just to be safe. We are planning an Easter gathering at my sister’s place. We aren’t too clear how big the gathering will be.
Watching Her Majesty’s speech yesterday touched me profoundly. Crises , such as this pandemic,, make clear why there is the monarchy. Her Majesty spoke for Great Britain. To be honest she spoke for much of the world, as a source of measured wisdom.She is the last figure on the world stage with vivid memories of World War Two. She did her part as a lorry driver.
We know, somehow, that each successive day of isolation, of limited contact, is a successful day that passes in the fight, even with the tragic loss of life. We will emerge the better for the quarantine.
Dispatches From Dystopia 