We are opening back up here. Slowly. At the speed of a turtle. Make that a turtle in its shell, but it is happening.
Some want a faster open, some want continued closure. Some say it is time to get on with it, others would wait until the last coronavirus micron has been eradicated.
We have become a nation of armchair quarterbacks. We will all know what the perfect decisions would have been after some imperfect decisions have been made.
Sounds of traffic from the interstate reverberate on our patio in the early mornings. Traffic is picking up. Select businesses are coming back to life, while others are poised and ready, waiting for the green flag.
Hardware stores, along with lawn and garden stores deemed necessities, have been open all along. We passed a family-owned nursery the other day and saw their parking lot filled. Overflow cars lined the street.
Tucking annuals into spring soil, planting tomatoes and peppers, oregano and rosemary, are affirmations of life. A declaration of better days to come.
Social distancing guidelines are easing. It has been two months since we have hugged a grandchild. There are so many factors to consider. For starters, we are in a high-risk group. I was as shocked as anyone to learn this. I was reading about risk factors one day and called out to the husband, "Am I elderly?"
"You're over 60. Yes! You're elderly!"
When did that happen? I still feel 17 inside.
We have a nephew, young and strong, who got the virus and was sick several weeks, flattened by extreme fatigue. The parents of classmates our kids went to school with got it. They were hospitalized, released and recovered. Elderly parents of an acquaintance both caught it. He survived, she did not.