I've had a big week. A big, big week. Of course, that's using the Covid-19 standard of measurement, which is far different from a big week using the typical scale, but we're happy to get whatever we can get at this point.

I went out to dinner with friends. Yeah, you heard me. It was a late birthday celebration and we were all just so excited to be getting out of the house. Only one of us had enjoyed her turn at the salon. She'd gone that day and so the more ungroomed among us just sat and looked longingly at her hair with much fascination- wanting to smell the chemicals and run our fingers through it. We hung on every detail of her visit and admired her rich color and freshly cut layers.

The masked server came to get our drink order. We looked over the menu like we'd just been released from serving 20 years at Attica. We hoped we could remember how restaurant etiquette worked as our skills were quite rusty. We looked over all the food options and took time to appreciate that someone else would be preparing it and bringing it to us on dishes that someone else would be washing. After the quarantine saga of being held captive in our own kitchens, it was almost a tearful realization. They were actually going to bring us food. Whatever we wanted. And all we had to do was sit there. As emotional as the moment was, we were far too excited to cry. We were out of the house and enjoying a break from our longtime quarantine cellmates back home. We were wearing real clothes with full makeup and were overcome with excitement.

We looked around the locally owned restaurant and it was pretty bare. There were three other tables being used besides ours. The place emptied out as we lingered and talked. We were obviously the patrons who were the most ecstatic about being out on the town for the evening. Every now and then, we'd see a car or two pass by the big glass windows, but nothing like the usual activity you'd expect on a typical night. It was most delightful, but there was something sad about it, too. While we were so busy enjoying ourselves in this once normal, routine activity, there were signs all around reminding us that things still weren't normal or routine. We closed the place down and walked out to the desolate street to our cars with the staff locking the doors behind us. We'd enjoyed the company and the laughter and being served a delicious meal. We'd really just enjoyed the chance to do a simple, normal thing together again.

We keep a dry erase calendar on our refrigerator. I didn't even bother to fill in the dates for April- there were no events to remember and nothing, whatsoever, to attend. But, now, I actually have several days marked in the next couple of weeks. Every time we spot a hint of normalcy or step toward more activity, no matter how small, we can feel a warming ray of optimism. It's happening far too fast for some and dragging its feet for others. Everyone has an opinion and a level of engagement where they feel comfortable. Patience with each other will be needed in this. Recognizing we're all coming at this from different angles with our own personalities, experiences, and medical charts, surely, we can reach way down in ourselves to meet each person with grace and respect until we're all standing side by side again. Side by side with no tape or cones or clear plastic barriers between us.

What a happy day that will be.

Until then, let's be kind.


Joni