Things are getting worse with coronavirus these days, our daily tally of new cases on a steep upward curve, hospitals again filling up and businesses being shut down. Now the public health people are worried about family gatherings, fearing that Thanksgiving will become a bonanza of superspreader events. I'm worried, of course, and my sons have organizing a fancy Thanksgiving dinner that will be prepared in our three kitchens, split into portions and delivered to the other houses. (I'm doing mashed potatoes and cranberry-orange relish.)
And yet, in so many ways, pandemic life has been good. No, I can't see the grandchildren as much as I would like, although we sometimes get together for walks. And no, we can't eat out as much as we would like. The occasional carry-out is good, but it's usually easier just to cook at home.
|why is one person dressed for winter, one for fall and one for summer?? it's a weird family|
As we contemplate the dire winter ahead and wonder how long it will be before we can receive a vaccine, when the economy will ever recover, whether a whole generation of children will be blighted by their interrupted education, my husband and I have nevertheless thought hard and often about how fortunate we are.
Fortunate to be retired, so that we don't have to worry about getting sick at work or chained to a zoom screen all day or having our employer go out of business. Fortunate to have our sons close by, even if we have to be careful about seeing them. Fortunate that we have plenty of room to be housebound without claustrophobia, and each have our own TV, out of earshot of the other one, and that we each have things that interest us and tasks that we love to do. Fortunate to have each other, so there's always someone to talk to about matters big and small and to help you up when you fall, literally or figuratively. And so very fortunate to anticipate a grownup in the White House very soon.
I wish a thankful Thanksgiving to you all, and hope that we'll all be together as internet pals for a long time.