As you well know, the world is feeling like a very strange place these days.
Small things – like the massive accumulation of recycling that sent me walking the neighborhood late last night, distributing my excess boxes and bottles into the bins of my neighbors – was a simple reminder of how our lives have suddenly changed.
We’re doing almost everything in the comfort and isolation of our house now, and as a result, the recycling and trash in our home piles up quickly.
Then there are the big things:
The absence of friends and family in our lives. The inability to visit a friend in the hospital as she battles COVID-19. Missing the energy, enthusiasm, and constant interruptions of my students. My daily Egg McMuffin. The beginning of Little League season. Our cancelled trip to Niagara Falls this week. The abrupt end to the NBA and NHL seasons. The elimination of dozens of shows, workshops, and open mics, where I was to stand in front of thousands of people, telling stories, performing comedy, and teaching.
Finding a little bit of normalcy these days can be hard, so I’ve been striving for it whenever possible.
Yesterday, for example, almost felt normal. The day began with our annual Easter egg hunt. This year, the Easter bunny was especially generous. Lots of eggs and lots of candy. Elysha and the kids are Jewish, so Easter has never meant church or family gatherings. It’s always been limited to the Easter bunny and candy-filled eggs, so as I watched the kids scurry around the house in search of treasures, I managed to forget about the virus for a little while.
All was blessedly normal.
The night before Easter, as I loaded jelly beans and chocolate into plastic eggs, I played poker with six of my friends until midnight. The game took place over a phone app and Zoom, combined with Spotify and Venmo, so although it wasn’t half a dozen friends gathered around my dining room table, it actually started to feel a little normal for a while.
Yesterday afternoon, I played golf for the first time this year. Golf turns out to be an excellent way to spend time with friends in a time of social distancing. Maintaining a safe distance from your fellow players is fairly easy on a golf course, and given that the game is played outdoors, it’s considerably safer than being indoors while social distancing.
The holes beneath the flags have been replaced with circular discs that your ball strikes and bounces off, eliminating the need to reach into a cup that others have already placed their hands within, but otherwise, it was golf. I played with my friend, Jeff, and a third guy named Dylan who joined us for the round.
It was kind of remarkable. Normal, everyday golf.
Normal except that I parred three of the nine holes, which is highly unusual for me, especially given it was my first time playing all year. Oddly, it was my above average play on several holes that was the most abnormal part of the round.
Granted, the day also featured a trip to the grocery store, which feels like running through razor blades. Wearing a mask that Elysha brilliantly sewed and lined with the best filter on the market, and armed with hand sanitizer in one pocket and Clorox wipes in the other, I entered the store with a battle plan. Happily, I chose my time wisely – early Easter morning – so the store was nearly empty.
Still, I yearn for the days when grocery shopping stops being a life-and-death struggle.
We also ate leftovers, played a game as a family, watched a movie, and did some chores around the house. All normal activities for a lazy Sunday.
Forgetting about the pandemic for even a few moments turns out to be a luxury these days.
After golf, I took a bike ride, hoping to extend normalcy for a little bit longer, but even on a sunny day, with music playing in my headphones and my legs pumping away, it’s hard to escape the reality of this new world. I rode past closed playgrounds. masked pedestrians, and a bus stop with a handmade sign taped to the plexiglass that read:
Thank you to our healthcare workers!
A reminder of a virus that is trying to kill us, but also a reminder of something that should’ve been normal all along:
Appreciation for the folks who work so hard to keep us healthy and alive, doing a job that that is more important and more dangerous than ever, but a job they have always been doing, oftentimes unnoticed and under-appreciated.
Perhaps we keep that from ever becoming normal again.
I wish you luck in finding your own moments of peace today.
