My days have a rhythm. After five months of managing life in the pandemic, I’m beginning to worry that I will be like the handful of Japanese soldiers who hid out for decades after the end of WWII. You can read an account of their stories here. Some refused to believe that the war was over or come to terms with the years of their lives that were wasted in hiding.
I honestly don’t feel sequestered or deprived anymore. Only when I hear from friends, who are out shopping or going in to restaurants, do I realize how different my choices have been from theirs. They say that you miss what you can’t have. In the beginning, I felt that way about a lot of things. Now, there’s actually very little that I miss. This summer looks a lot like last summer with the exception of a couple missed music venues and lunches with friends.
I’ve learned that many things that I initially lamented giving up, don’t really contribute much to my overall happiness. I’ve never been a shopper. My wardrobe of clothes and shoes are mostly replenished when things wear out. God knows I have enough craft supplies to last a lifetime. I used to like browsing the grocery store aisles, but have become comfortable with online ordering and actually appreciate the luxury of having someone else gather my order and load it into my car. We seldom went to restaurants before the pandemic, so we are fine with an occasional takeout meal. I hate crowds and never went to large gatherings like concerts, fairs or sporting events, so those things aren’t a takeaway either.
I value my time outdoors each morning when I walk by the lake, but have been able to do that with no interruption. What I do miss is relaxed time with family, hugs, spontaneous outings, travel and sharing a meal or drink with friends. Those are things for which I will eventually venture out of the bunker.