Year two-thousand twenty was different then any I’ve experienced, and I think others would hold similar opinion.  I refer to the danger posed to life by the invisible organism that quietly passes from one human to another.

The ramifications of the pandemic have been far reaching, and it still presses heavily upon our lives.  I’m fortunate in that I’ve lost no close family or friends, though my father’s life was changed as after contracting the illness—he hasn’t been the same man.  The terrible loss of life I believe has touched almost every nation on earth.  In my country alone more than five-hundred and fifty thousand will wake no more, embrace no more, play no more, love no more—at least on earthly realm.

As millions have, I’ve spent stents working from home.  I’ve worn mask in every indoor public setting and donned it at outdoor events as well.  Breathing stale air, disinfecting grocery cart, and drenching hands in sanitizer has become second nature.  There have been toilet paper shortages, empty shelves once crowded with cleaning products, and foods once plentiful were not to be found.  Businesses that thrived in a pre-COVID world died or barely survived.  Teachers, parents, and children learned to learn from afar.  Sporting events were canceled or were played sans cheers.

Perhaps a cost harder to quantify has been the isolation.  Activities I took for granted—visiting family and friends—were no longer possible.  My father languished in nursing home, our only connection phone or Zoom.  I always try to maintain a positive attitude, but I feel this toll has been substantial.  The more reclusive sort may have faired better, but for me, freedoms lost have proven difficult waters to navigate.

Some where I live feel virus’s impact has been exaggerated, and to be fair, in the early days as scientists and infectious disease experts struggled to understand the nature of the problem, conflicting information was disseminated.  As time marched on, however, most took a better safe than sorry approach which I believe helped spare many who otherwise might have lost taste, smell, breath, or life.

As vaccines became available, priorities were set.  Front line workers first, elderly and at risk next.  Only recently have authorities opened opportunities to those not falling into those categories.  Mid-week my friend received an email saying he could schedule an appointment.  He forwarded the email to me, and though I had my doubts, after answering questions asked on form I was accepted as well.

When date arrived, it was a cool, breezy, sunny Friday evening.  I pulled into bustling lot and found a nice spot for my Honda.  Looking down at mask I considered this might be the beginning of road to divorce and smiled.  At first checkpoint I was met by courteous Guardswoman.  She seemed surprised when I thanked her for being there but brightened and responded in kind.  I stood in long queue that moved along smartly.  All were respectful and there was an air of calm, a vibe I’m sure others detected.  When my turn, I sat next to two very pleasant women, one a part-time nurse, the other a volunteer.  Both were tired as this was the second day of the event, none the less, they were professional and kind and for reason I don’t fully grasp, I wish I could have talked further with the pair.  I rose from seat after injection and smiling behind mask’s shroud I said another thank you and took seat in post vaccine waiting area.  I sat my requisite fifteen minutes mainly soaking up what I observed.  I wanted to remember the scene from that day to last as this felt historic in nature.

The cool wind felt good while walking to vehicle as if I’d never felt such gusts.  It was also one of my favorite times of day, the sun’s long rays creating even longer shadows.  As I prepared to leave, a feeling of peace inhabited heart and that feeling persisted for the balance of the evening.

I was blessed to have opportunity to receive a vaccine that I hope will give me a leg-up on COVID, and I sincerely hope all who want the same are afforded the chance post haste.