March 11, 2020. A day like every other day —except for one not so minor detail. A deadly virus in China had landed in the US of A. Kayleigh McEnany, Trump’s press secretary, had revealed two weeks earlier that that wouldn’t happen. “We will not see diseases like the coronavirus come here,” she said, “This president will always put America first, he will always protect American citizens,” she added. (A year later more than 538,000 have died.)
If Kayleigh had been right I wouldn’t be posting this photo,
My second Moderna vaccine shot, thirteen days ago.
Kayleigh’s ignorant comment notwithstanding, her President (not mine) revealed months earlier that he was aware that Covid-19 was deadly. He chose not to reveal what he knew because, as he said, “I didn’t want people to panic.”
Stay At Home orders were soon in place. SF Chronicle:
Instantly, our days changed. I was used to spending Fridays at the Berkeley Food Pantry, Thursday, delivering Meals on Wheels, Monday and Tuesday at the Berkeley Homeless shelter. Jadyne volunteered at the shelter with me, delivered meals on Thursday, and spent hours every week at the Turnabout Shop, a thrift store on San Pablo Avenue. In-beween we hosted Hawthorn, Susanto, and Isla for piano lessons. All ended in an instant.
Staying home, not seeing anyone, I looked forward to playing guitar. That is, until on 3/12 when I was pruning a bush in the yard, and after I pruned my finger, four stitches and a lot of pain ended that:
Eva, a little neighborhood girl, made a sign that’s still in our garage window.
“Let’s All Be Well” Indeed. We have been. We’re among the fortunate few who not only didn’t catch Covid-19, but didn’t know firsthand any of the millions who did.
The days came and went. I walked around the neighborhood, mask on, finding and clipping flowers, practicing a technique called “Focus Stacking.” I read. I played cards with Jadyne. I ate. I drank. Each day I tried to play guitar. I couldn’t.
And so life went on. Mr. Trump’s goal was to reopen the country by Easter. He went on camera and suggested that we drink bleach. Dr. Birx, his loyal doctor, cringed on camera as she heard him suggest that. The country isn’t open. And it still won’t be open on Easter—this Easter.
Jadyne and I were looking forward to our fiftieth wedding anniversary on June 13th, 2020, planning to host family at Gary Danko’s for dinner, then to a party at home, then three days at a ranch in the mountains. Jadyne even put on her mother’s wedding dress. So looking forward to such a big celebration!
Not exactly excited.
However, we were happily surprised by our family’s arrival on that Saturday, disappointed only in the cold five course meal that we had to carry out from a local restaurant. We haven’t been to a restaurant in a year. And we’re not planning on going to one soon.
With schools closed Jadyne and I became our own school in August, hosting our granddaughter Isla and her friend Ella, a one day a week rendezvous which has continued for the last eight months. Third graders with laptops, in touch with their teacher from time to time throughout the day. In between giggles, horseplay, indifference, boredom, and forays on the devices into verboten websites have been the order of business. We had no idea what lay ahead. Nobody did. Here was day #1 last August.
Summer came and went. In September we were “treated” to an incredible lightning storm that begat the worst fire season California had ever experienced. (If only we had raked the forests, as Mr. Trump admonished us to do).
And the skies, the orange and black darkness that descended on us one day in September.
10:32 am September 20th. Read that right? 10:32 a fucking m.
Jason, in the throes of a divorce from Rachel, moved to our house in October. After a court appearance in that month, our two grandchildren joined us for half custody. This has been a bright spot in our lives in what had been a pretty dismal year. They’re still here, and we’re still enjoying them. If anyone else would like to play “My Little Pony” with Hazel, I’m willing to give up Tempest Shadow…or Applejack, or Rainbow Dash.
Jason and Hazel ready for Halloween.
That leads us up to Thursday, March 18th. One more day and we’ll have officially arrived at the two week period following the second vaccination, a time when we will have achieved maximum immunity. Meanwhile only 11% of Californians enjoy the privilege. Jason hasn’t received his first. Jennifer has had her first. The vaccines are coming. Cases are dropping. ICU beds are now available. Against CDC warnings mayors and governors are dropping mask mandates, and the fear that we will see yet another surge is here.
At the beginning of the year 2020 Jadyne’s brother Greg was in a coma in a Denver hospital, with a disease that has never been diagnosed. He recovered, returned home, then was sequestered with Sean in Glenwood Springs, as forest fires threatened their home. They are home once again, remaining quarantined like the rest of us.
And in the meantime, beyond our simple little lives, Biden defeated Trump, who, by creating a story that the election was stolen, revealed that his drinking bleach comment was a high water moment in his intellectual prowess. Then two months ago, on the day that Biden’s vote count was tabulated, he directed an insurrection on the Capitol. Five people were killed. Trump was impeached for the second time.
And things that couldn’t get worse, did, and things that could get better, did. We’re on a roll.