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She stepped away from the front door, locked it, and turned towards the car. Her family waited, bags packed. She looked over her shoulder to the mail slot. She paused and wondered, “When will I be back?”
They wanted to head east, the consequence of the ancient longing for home known to so many people throughout time and of the restrictions imposed to stay safe from this much feared disease. There was no longer any point in staying.
***
This morning, I spoke with an old friend who pointed out, “Today is March 2, 2021.” We chuckled for a moment at the thought, “Has anything interesting happened in the past year?” Then, we turned to the more serious. She asked, “What have we learned?”
About a year ago from today, I walked the streets of Lisbon, Portugal. I do remember a gnawing sense of fear, the way a hunger pang slowly comes on. A few people wore masks, and social distancing had not yet become normal. In neighboring Spain, lockdowns and restrictions had started. In Italy, the dying had started. In Portugal, the air was warm and tourists still moved about. People seemed happy.
But, as we all know, that could not last. At the end of the vacation, we scrambled to get home. President Trump had announced the closing of borders. No one really knew what was happening. No one had any reliable…
