Five years ago this month, covid was declared a national emergency.
We shut ourselves up in our houses and apartments, hoarded hand sanitizer and alcohol wipes, figured out how to order groceries on line, and Skyped and Zoomed with distant loved ones.
Some of us got sick. Some of us died. Many of us lost loved ones to the pandemic.
It so happens that 2020, the pandemic year, is the last full year I had with my husband Jon, who died in February, 2021. Because of our covid fears, Jon and I didn’t do much that year, so I focused my writing — and my trusty point-and-shoot — on our sheltering-at-home adventures.
Here are some of the stories I wrote that year. Maybe they will bring back memories — some sad and hopefully some amusing — for you.
Five Years Ago This Month — Covid Stories From the Sheltering at Home Chronicles
Will Donald Trump Be the Death of Me? Pardon My Rant as I Shelter in Place and Wind Up Praying for the President. Day 11 — in which I actually do find myself praying for Donald Trump, alongside people like Nancy Pelosi and Mitt Romney.
The Coronavirus Cruise Ship Has Disappeared From Our View. Why Does That Make Me Sad? Sheltering in Place Week 4 — in which Jon and I, in our isolation, get pleasure and companionship from the view we have from our kitchen of a brightly lit — and quarantined — cruise ship floating on the San Francisco Bay.
Why I Write About the Small Stuff. Like the Kettle Corn That Showed Up in Our Food Order. Sheltering in Place Week 4 — in which, thanks to a covid delivery mix-up, I wind up sampling a lot of strange foods, including a hoppy pop — the alcohol-free Hoppy Refresher from Lagunitas Brewing Company.
I remember the cruise ship also. I watched it come into the Bay and under the Bay bridge, and then settle in on the ‘coast’ of Alameda. Every time I walked out the double doors to my back porch, if I looked left, I could see the ship. My friend Liz and I went biking in Alameda during the pandemic. People from the ship were yelling – “help me get off this ship.” I was grateful I was on my bike, and not on a ship. eb