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The Season Of…What?

August 19, 2020

There are fewer people flying than at any time since 1965.

Is this a symbol or a metaphor? Probably yes. Everyone is not doing what they have done and is doing what that haven’t done. Until this season, that is stretching into half a year, with no end in sight.

A friend’s parking garages in New York are at 10% capacity. Businesses have ended. Apartments have been abandoned.

There is no honor in this. And it means our lives are changed (duh). But there are no alternatives for my daily habits since I do not binge watch and I already worked out every day. We could not have a vacation because a state said we might infect their residents, so the daily do is unrelenting.

But I could work.

There is nothing different, special, or even interesting in what this last 5 months wrought, but its reality needs to be remembered, because, someday, things will snap back to something that is not this sequestration time, but not the 63 years of my life before that.

In the last 5 months I have painted a bathroom, 2 doors and 3 windows. Refinished a countertop, 2 desks and a floor. Moved 7,000 pounds of river jacks into a dozen locations. Repaired 2 eaves. Reset a mailbox. Repaired and repainted 3 damaged walls. Recreated a magnetic catch for a large door. Used my plumbing snake, twice, for the first time in 20 years.

We would have gone to church 25 times, we could go twice.

We have eaten at the dining room table over 120 times, where it would have been 10 (at most) in a normal season. Had perhaps 40 fires in the fireplace. Played music on our normally dormant HiFi in the months we were eating at that dining room table. We even paid someone to reupholster a sofa. 

This is in addition to all the domestic stuff I would have done any other year as well.

I worked an extra day a week, making it 7. (Well I was not in the office 5 days in these 5 months that I was not able to make it in to do the tasks listed above). I am on my eighth gas tank in those 5 months. 30 actual masked meetings replaced about 140. I was virtually the only person in my office for 2 months. Since this season began, we have 6 new homes to design and 9 other new projects to do, along with the 45 other active projects in the office (no cancellations).

Since we were allow to have 5 people gather, 2 meters separated, this June we have had over a dozen 2-on-2 Distanced Dinners outside on our porch – half were with couples that had had a meal outside of their home.

This means nothing, yet. Everything above is not sacrifice, it is coping. Coping is its own reward. Coping is not heroic either. Those who go beyond coping, sitting in the siren screaming emergency vehicles or shrouded in stuff to keep disease out of themselves to cure us, are heroes.

There are always heroes, just now mystery and fear overwhelm the reasons for their sacrifice. Finding God in all of this is harder. He never left, I have just been otherwise occupied.

Not Good.

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