A few milestones, unrealized in the moment, from the Before Times:
12/21/19: The last time Prairie and I went out to a performance (Handel’s Messiah, in downtown Seattle).
12/28/19: The last time Prairie and I traveled to the Portland area to visit family (my mom, her mom, her dad). Neither of us have seen any of our parents in person since this visit.
2/15/20: The last time I went out to the Mercury. I believe this would also be the last time I hugged anyone other than Prairie.
2/16-17/20: The last time Prairie and I traveled, for a weekend on Whidbey Island.
2/22/20: The last time Prairie and I were in a big crowd, at an Elizabeth Warren rally.
3/7/20: The last truly out-of-the-house social activity I did before going into pandemic lockdown was the March 2020 Norwescon ConCom meeting, and I didn’t even think to get a selfie or other picture. Also the last time I had any non-medical physical contact with anyone other than Prairie — a couple “elbow bumps” with friends. My own pandemic Day Zero.
Since then, Prairie and I have been in near-total lockdown. For a while we tried going on walks on trails in the area, until it became clear that too many people refused to wear masks while out on trails and we stopped. We did careful grocery runs for a while, but since November (driven by the expected holiday infection spike) we’ve moved all of our grocery shopping to ordering from Amazon Fresh and Instacart. When we get food from local restaurants, we order through Door Dash or use businesses with drive-through windows. In the past year, we’ve had three socially distanced visits with family in Olympia (twice sitting in their driveway at least six feet away from each other, once meeting to walk the trails at Flaming Geyser State Park), and one equally distanced visit from a friend here at our place. When we need other goods, we order as much as possible from Amazon (or, if books, from Powell’s or Bookshop to support independent booksellers); on the few instances we’ve needed to source something locally, we’ve done everything we can to go during the safest times possible (early mornings during the week rather than weekends or evenings, etc.).
Meanwhile, infection and casualty numbers continued to rise, because too many people wouldn’t follow similar guidelines. We absolutely understand that in many ways we are privileged in how we can afford (both financially and personally) to move so much of our lives online and in that we can both work from home. But there are so many people that could have been doing more than they have been to get this situation under control.
And it is especially frustrating when we see so many people we know, acquaintances and friends alike, who are traveling, visiting family and friends, eating and drinking in bars and restaurants instead of getting take-out, and so on. We watch the cars go by the road outside our windows, for all we can tell at pre-pandemic levels, and wonder how many of them are actually doing necessary errands, and how many are just living life as if it was normal.
We’ve spent so much of this year sad, frustrated, angry, isolated, and all too often, despairing that this will ever actually improve. I try to tell myself that things are getting better, that vaccines are (all too slowly) becoming more widely available, and that we’ll be vaccinated eventually (though we’re not likely to be eligible before general availability) — but some days, it’s really, really difficult to keep that in mind.