Hindsight will be 20/20

I've been quiet on writing about this pandemic even though I have fewer excuses not to write.  It seems a writer worth her pen might have tried to catalog these unprecedented days, but goodness knows the media is doing that for us. 


I watched the world in the beginning trying to understand this virus, slow to grasp what was occurring around me. I finished plans in January for a two month trip in May and June to the UK and Scandinavia, oblivious to the pain these countries would also begin to encounter. 

I walked Florida beaches, watched waves from waterside restaurants, and sat in a hot tub in January and February with no idea that March would find me isolated in my home under Pandemic guidelines. I flew to St. Louis mid-February to celebrate my dad's 80th birthday with family and friends not realizing it wouldn't be safe to see them soon. 




I joined the ranks to fight against this unseen enemy. I feared fighting it on my personal homefront, infecting my family and friends, so I wore my mask, washed my hands, and followed shopping and cleaning protocols. 



Everything keeps spinning
Our efforts weren't just for self-preservation 
but to help ease the onslaught to hospitals.  
My heart raced at the beginning, watching 
and reading and listening 
to the world spin out of control around me. 





Monterosso Al Mare...you should go there.


I took a deep breath and found comfort in a simpler rhythm. Friends and family were coached to join Zoom and Marco Polo to feel connected. I contacted family, church friends, people from high school, and even people we stayed with in Italy last year.


Recoiling into my smaller world at home was the antithesis of the travels I had dreamed for these days. I've sheltered at home with the one I vowed to spend all my days making a life with, so we're still here crafting our story on this pandemic stage. 


One year before in Spain. Still looking forward to future travels.



Outlander when you need something bingeworthy.

We're making it with walks, talks, puzzles, workouts, Outlander binges, Wolters World travel inspiration, Zoom church services, family Zoom meetings, distance chats from the driveway with family and friends, and hugs from grandkids. 


Fun and honest travel advice: https://woltersworld.com/

Yep, it seems like a cheat, I know, but we have to. We have to help our kid that works at a hospital to help others. They're part of our smaller world. 



The world got bigger and smaller at the same time. I felt sadder for countries than I ever had. I felt their pain, and I also absorbed some of their hope and resilience. Oh, the human spirit is so inspiring and creative. I've worshiped with Michael W. Smith and all his followers around the world. I snagged a front row seat (from my TV and cellphone) that I'd never be able to afford to my favorite comedians and musicians' concerts. The Renaissance spirited Italians sang to the world in solidarity from balconies. Doctors and nurses from every country cried and held patients to their final moments of life. Birthdays, graduations, anniversaries, and love were honored with drive-by parties, window-pane visits, yard signs.... While we tried to slow the spread, we tried harder to find a way to celebrate one another. There's virtually no milestone that couldn't be celebrated virtually. 


You gotta find the beauty in your own backyard.


I've looked out the window down the lane countless times wondering when this will be over.  Early on, this introvert knew she could easily do this for the month the state of Illinois asked of us. Who isn't happy to grocery shop less, right? I need no excuse to shop online. But we've lost time, and it appears the time this pandemic will take will be way more than my mind expected. 

Now our country, as the sick patient it is in this pandemic, has arrived at the stage in any illness when the patient gets irritable. The patient is not comatose under the providers constant care like a patient is at the outset of an illness, but neither is the country completely well, yet. We are getting better slowly, but we're still feeling the ache. We're aware but feeling a bit powerless to do much.




I fear we could be in this irritable stage for some time. I've watched for months federal and state daily updates from politicians, news media, and doctors. I'm aware of the struggles concerning limited PPEs, ventilators, and non-pharmaceutical interventions. I'm aware that despite the promise of medical countermeasures, their use has been limited by a mismatch between public health needs and private-sector control of production. I understand whatever interventions that our policy makers choose as effective strategies in a public health sense must not have profound adverse consequences for civil liberties and economic status. I'm aware of our economy's grave condition: it's the exchange that puts food in the bellies, medicine in the mouths, and clothes on the back of my neighbors and family. And yes, I'm aware that every legal decision should have an ethical and human rights component.

Yet, sadly at this point, I'm also keenly aware that none of the decisions being made by politicians and doctors will eliminate the uncertainty I'm experiencing. While our country may or may not be "correct" on our containment strategies, we are waging a concurrent war when we wield weapons that have nothing to do with mitigating this virus. Politicians and the media have rightfully and artfully rallied the Americans to fight Covid-19 but are also deceptively distracting us to fight a different unseen enemy, namely one another. This is truly a viral Vietnam. We are creating divisions and slinging verbal munitions at our own troops.


Listening to the sound of the world from my porch, lots of music, and those that spread truth & beauty.


Truthfully, I'm trying not to concentrate on feeling duped, lied to, or hoaxed. I'm looking hard for those that are looking hard at data and facts. I'm not expecting anyone to be perfect and get all the unfamiliar right all the time. Hindsight will be 20/20, but I'm going to keep my eyes on the facts. And if anyone tells me they are certain, I am fairly certain that they are not in this novel time. I want my America to be the place that we can agree to disagree, have varying ideals and methodologies, and regard that we each fight for those without fighting one another.

What I do feel at this moment is tired. I am tired of disrespect, conjecture, finger pointing, creating sentiment instead of analyzing facts, and unnecessary sideshows of bravado and power. I'm weary that worry is ranting up fear.

I'm tired of Americans fighting one another instead of this virus. Out of fear, we attack individuals to have an enemy to rally around that we can poke and prod. Our gaze is vamped by the salacious turn of the media. We don't weed out their rhymes and sound bites to chase after the solution as hard as we chase after finding fault for error. 

Having grace for one another requires a warrior's courage; truly we need to find some grit to live in these uncertain and sensitive times. Call your heart, mind, and soul to stay the course. Fight the virus. Fight for facts. Don't tread on the vigilant.

Our hindsight will be 20/20.





Comments

Unknown said…
Beautifully said.
rose mcclarren said…
Cher You are speaking for me in such a beautiful way and yes a sad manner that we all slip into at times. I love you and appreciate you writing the truth with beauty, kindness and honesty. I love you my precious daughter.
Always here for you, Mom
George Jonas said…
Cher, you speak beautifully for each of us, about something none of us ever expected and never experienced before. A perfect storm of politics, pandemic, hate, and hope all at the same time. Some like you answering to it with hope and love in your heart while others trash wildly with hurt and rage. Thanks for sharing your beautiful thoughts so badly needed at a time where so much confusion and pain unfortunately rein.