Pandemic Life is especially wickedly bad because so many of the losses are those we may not consider griefworthy. This means we might be dismissive of these losses, not treating them with the respect and care they deserve — and even adding shame to the emotional burden.
First-year university students talk about the loss of their senior year of high school plus the loss of the “normal” and expected college experiences.
Professionals share how much they miss colleagues and smiles and hugs.
Lincoln and Berkeley are not having normative childhood experiences; Berkeley will tell you it is because of “the germs.”
The upcoming Holidays have the potential to become Family Super Spreader events. Covid is the new Grinch.
I walk through the world saturated by losses these days — my own and others.
I bet you do as well.
It is flipping exhausting.
Knowing the importance of having Hope, I decided to enter Claire in a small obedience-only show. Having something so immediate to look forward to was a well-needed Uplift.
And then their Covid precautions came out.
Crating allowed inside the building.
Spectators discouraged but not prohibited.
Masks required but not really — exhibitors and the judge need not wear masks when inside the ring, thereby setting up a peeing section of the swimming pool.
Yes, I understand the plan was approved by the County — in a Red State with surging cases.
I pulled my entries, and in doing so, I pulled away a small bright spot of Hope and more losses rained down on me.
I know enough not to judge myself for feeling grief. It wasn’t just an obedience trial. It was Hope. Something cheery to balance all the losses. A sliver of Normal.
And the politics of Covid stole it from me.