What a year it has been. As we came upon the anniversary of the great COVID-19 pandemic on March 11, I realized my life was so much different a year ago than it is now. I was an older, returning college student who worked at Richland Student Media, a freelance videographer and a church tech. My life was busy with school and work and what I hoped to be a career in oral history preservation. Today, the future has a big question mark and I spend most of my days in my home office studying and for now still working at Richland Student Media.
The last large, normal event I attended was the March 8, 2020 funeral of my friend Jimmie. Given the social distancing and masking protocols that followed, it’s almost like stepping back into a time tunnel to remember how freely people moved at her funeral. Her daughters personally greeted and hugged everybody who came. Jimmie was well-loved, and the church was brimming with mourners and well-wishers celebrating her 90+ years of life. It was one of those moments where people gathered together and you could just feel the grief, love and healing in the gathering.
People wait in line to receive a COVID-19 vaccination at Methodist Hospital in the Oak Cliff neighborhood of Dallas on March 2. Photo The Associated Press
Then I got into the car to go home. It was like I drove through an invisible tunnel into a strange new world. Less than a week later, on March 10, the coronavirus landed on our doorstep in Dallas. Later that week, on a Friday, we sat in the Chronicle newsroom and talked about the fact that we weren’t coming back to campus after spring break. I received a call from the church where I work. They were closing down until further notice. I left campus to attend what would be my last dining-out experience in over a year. By Monday, we were in lockdown. And just for fun, someone called to tell me I might have been exposed to the virus.
You don’t realize how something like that can affect every aspect of your life. When I wasn’t jumping out of my skin over every sniffle for two weeks, I was wondering how to replace my lost income, buy groceries without going inside the store and then safely unpack them. How was I going to navigate the new world unfolding in front of me? This thing was going to have legs. One of the many would be pandemic fatigue.
Several months later, as COVID-19 cases were spiking, my roommates and I were all in the house jammed together without much of a break. One weekend, everyone had their own private and sometimes not-so-private meltdowns over the changes the pandemic was making in our home. One of my roommates decided to move. Another stayed in her room. I went to stay a few days at Jimmie’s empty house. This pandem-o-life was getting to be too much. Everyone needed a breather.
One of the more stunning aspects of this past year was the pushback against protocols to stop the spread of the virus. New Zealand and Australia were shining examples of what can happen when residents work together to stop the spread of the virus. In the U.S. we don’t seem to have that same sense of unity. Many denied the danger, refused to socially distance or insisted that masks and other protocols were a form of communistic government control. Puzzlingly, this has followed political lines. In a contentious election year, this issue has served to highlight just how divided our nation is and, unfortunately, the denial has had deadly impact, quite literally.
But there were some benefits to the year as well. One day I noticed some extra money in my bank account. Lately it had been almost empty, so I wondered if I had forgotten to pay some bills or if another stimulus payment had come in. Turned out it was the fact that I was not commuting or eating out. While I dearly miss eating out, I hate commuting. It rocks that there are at least three benefits to not commuting: extra cash, buying back the road time and not getting killed on the freeway!
When I stopped working at the church, this opened some additional time for some of us to get together on Zoom and discuss the works of philosopher and Christian author Dallas Willard. I just didn’t have the space for this type of thing when I was working at the church. It’s been a life-giving experience for everyone and it’s exciting to watch a small community develop from it.
I’ve gained a new kind of appreciation for the small things during this time. I miss in-person fellowship, but the joys are in new places these days; chatting with friends on the phone/Zoom, waving at a neighbor, watching the heads of the neighborhood kids across the street pop up and down behind the fence as they joyously jump on the trampoline. And there’s my roommate baking me her special chocolate chip cranberry cookies and, bitter sweetly, spending extra time with my dog Vivo. In the long hours when I’ve been home alone, he’s been a “wag without words.” Unfortunately, he died in February and learning to live without unconditional love from my little buddy adds one more loss to this hard, hard year. My friends were, nonetheless, incredibly supportive during this time. That’s been a treasure.
As I look to the future, my feelings are mixed. Almost daily there are news reports that sometimes make me feel alternately hopeful or despairing. I take comfort in knowing God’s got my future as well as my today. I’m learning to admit I can’t control the choices of others and that I can only control my own actions and attitudes. This means sometimes I’ll turn off the news and go for a sanity drive or call a friend or I’ll sign up for a vaccine and add value to the much smaller world I now inhabit. I don’t necessarily know when we will get back to normal. I’m certainly longing for it. In the meantime, one year later, I’ll live one day at a time.
What about you? Send us your story at RichlandStudentMedia.com/oneyearlater.
