All the turkeys in my area can breathe a little easier.  I won't be cooking you this year.  There will be no big celebration around the table.  I'm not inviting any guests. Not even our sons. It will be just the two of us and we'll make something nice, but not a turkey.  Every day during this eight month (so far) nightmare has been a "thanksgiving".  I wake up every morning and count my blessings before my feet hit the floor.  The first blessing is waking up, of course, and then there's the litany of the people who make my life worth living, both family and friends.  Then I'm grateful that so far I haven't lost any of them this year, because I realize many people have not been that lucky.  

This morning I've been thinking about how many times in the Bible Jesus has said, "Those who have ears should listen."  I always thought that was a little strange.  This year, in a very big way, I finally get it.  There are people who actually DON'T have ears.  They CAN'T understand.  They cannot process what is said over and over and over.  In this case, it's "MASKS SAVE LIVES" and "KEEP YOUR DISTANCE". 

I have been told "Well, I for one, refuse to live in fear!" as if that were something to be very proud of.  I don't live in fear.  I live in science.  But living in fear really isn't the worst idea when over a quarter of a million Americans are dead from COVID.  Maybe we should all be living in fear.  We don't seem to be capable of "living in sanity" or "living in patience".   How can people still be dismissive of this virus when we as a nation have lost that many people?  When the world has lost so many more?
What will it take to convince us?

I am as depressed and exhausted as anybody (except the amazing people who are actually on the front lines in the hospitals dealing with this situation, of course).  As the virus gets worse and comes back harder than ever, I realize that I'll be making the same decision at Christmas as I made for Thanksgiving.  It is the only rational thing to do until we get the vaccine.  It's more important than your sister's birthday (or funeral, for that matter), or the wedding, or the 50th high school reunion.  All of that can wait.  If we get it wrong at this moment, however, there will be no more birthdays, or weddings or reunions.  No grandchildren's visits.  No trips to the Cape.  None of it.  Is it really worth it?  Can we not suck it up for a few more months?

My Christmas tree, currently adorned with autumn leaves, will be up until I can celebrate with my two sons.  If that's July, then I'll just clean around it for another few months (or let the dust accumulate, which is much more likely).  Thanksgiving will be a quiet day to give thanks, not make the shopping list for the next morning's shopping frenzy.  Christmas will be a quiet time to think about the birth of Jesus.  Or if you're not Christian, or even if you're an atheist, to think about what actually matters in your life.  It seems none of us spend enough time doing that.

Wear the masks.  Double them up when you're at the supermarket.  And if you decide to gather with your family or friends on these days, I won't judge you.  Really.  But I will worry.  And so should you.

OK.  Not only do I (clever woman that I am) wear a mask each and every time I leave the house no matter where I'm going, even if I have no chance of bumping into anyone, now I'm also wearing a mask all night.  After a "sleep test" it was announced by my doctor that I have a "mild sleep apnea" and it was only waking me up about 38 times a night.  So we're doing the CPAP thing which is really hard to get used to, unattractive, exceedingly unromantic, and not a little scary.  When I get up for the nightly trot down the hall I detach myself from my hose and toddle off.  It's fine until I go to wash my hands and am confronted in the mirror with a space alien where my face should be.  2020 continues to dazzle with its Machiavellian sense of humor.

I'll get used to it.  We all are getting used to all sorts of things these days.  But I'm not loving it.  Nor am I loving the wrinkles that have appeared since I've dropped an additional ten pounds since the lockdown started.  I know, I know.  You're jealous.  Don't be. It's largely because I spend my days hunched over my computer like Quasimodo and forget to get up and walk around, much less snack.  I'm sure the missing pounds will find me.  I will confess, however, that I have never felt old before, and I'm beginning to.  It doesn't have much to do with numbers.  I think it has more to do with "numbness".  This has been a long haul, Peeps, with no real end in sight.

At least there is some hope of things calming down politically on a national level once we admit we have had a valid election.  People can start speaking to people with differing opinions again, and maybe even listen when the other person speaks, without drawing a sword or assuming a Kung Fu Battle Stance.  We can learn to "play nice" as I used to tell my kids.  So that's good.  And the weather has been lovely. I like nice weather.  The unchanging level of danger from the virus for the immediate future still hangs like an ominous cloud overhead and will for quite a while yet.  I am lucky that it has been boring me.  So many others don't have the luxury of boredom.  They work in danger, they grieve for loved ones, they suffer the effects of the virus itself.

So I'm dealing with it, and have pretty much resigned myself to the idea of Thanksgiving and Christmas for two, and can think about it without getting teary-eyed and hysterical.  It just is.  I wish it weren't, but there you are.

Meanwhile, in this not entirely self-imposed isolation my thinking is changing about a lot of things.  I am grateful for the WhatsApp and Zoom and even "Go To Meeting".  It's important to be able to see faces (without masks on them).  I'm discovering how few things I need to get by.  And how precious friends and family are to me.  Even the ones who haven't shared my opinions for a while.  

So continue to keep socially distant, wash your hands, and wear your mask.  Let's make this stupid virus retreat.  I have a Venetian Carnival mask a friend brought back for me from Italy about 40 years ago.  Maybe I'll team it up with my mouth and nose covering mask for a little variety.  The sequins and feathers will give my neighbors in the supermarket something interesting to talk about besides my Christmas tree (still lit since March).  It would certainly liven things up.  Or maybe I'll just dust off my cape and go full-out Zorro.  Because why not.

Be nice out there.  Be a little crazy if it makes you feel better.  And take down the barbed wire that's been around your heart and be gentle with everyone you meet. We're at war with COVID, not each other.  And everyone has been suffering.

Peace!