WAITING FOR HOPE

 I expect you all have a COVID story.  Bill and I have been touched by COVID as friends, a relative, and a colleague all survived this serious illness and the long-term after-effects. We know we have been lucky in comparison to the many stories of families decimated by the disease. This past year has been a raw year full of tragedy, of confronting and recognizing our past history, of finding new ways to communicate with each other, and experiencing deep personal losses and triumphs too.

We've spent more than a year sequestered, teaching and taking classes and talking with friends on Zoom. We were fortunate not to be full-time employees having to home school/Zoom class with children, we have a secure place to live, our son has brought us groceries each week, and we developed a new appreciation of a quieter life. For now, we hesitate to get back into the full swing of things. Our driving skills need to be updated and we don't want to fill our calendars with too many things that we love to do but leave us little time to sit together outside, talk with each other, and just read the paper. At the same time, we understand the sense of relief and joy that most of us are feeling with the loosening of restrictions.

We can't help remembering the last eighteen months and the almost 600,000 Americans who lost their lives to COVID -- thousands who could have escaped COVID if the previous president had not downplayed the disease and encouraged politicization of public health and public responsibility. We are glad that the vaccines are working to bring down the numbers. We are getting to a place where we don't feel the vivid anger we once did about people who put their own needs above others. We have been pleased to see the majority of people still wearing masks even outside and being considerate of others. 

We think of getting together with larger groups of friends, but the thought of the thousands of COVID victims squashes that desire to just return to normal without somehow acknowledging what we have been through in the last 18 months. Perhaps, next year on Earth Day, Arbor Day, or Memorial Day, we could re-imagine the significance of these holidays and plant trees in honor of each person lost to this disease. We could remember not only the people but the clear skies that resulted from the whole world sequestering and slowing down. We hope by then that COVID can't find any more victims.

As I sat in Zoom meetings, I took out my sketchbook and used the opportunity to draw the people I saw on the screen. I didn't try for likenesses, but just the quick facial gestures that express personality. Sometimes, I caught faces in their worst moment with exaggerated wrinkles, grimaces, or squints. If you recognize yourself or someone else, assume it is not the person you think it might be. They are only gesture drawings, not portraits, just practice, not an attempt to portray a real person. I am in there too.