So it is March again. Last March we were about to embark on a two-week trip around Canada to visit our daughter (at university in Quebec) and for our son to do tours of universities he was thinking of applying to. We ended up cancelling the whole thing, D has applied to universities unseen, and V has been chipping away slowly at our Air Canada credit. Last March I remember thinking we might have to eat down the contents of our (not very big) freezer, and make meals out of what was in the larder and what was available at the stores – remember when you could only buy one jug of milk or one packet of meat per visit? Although it was alarming, I thought on balance that Covid would probably not have much impact on the fairly remote city where I live, and the ‘making do with less ingredients’ seemed like a manageable, even interesting, short term challenge.
Well, Covid did indeed come to my city, but thankfully the supermarkets went back to normal service quickly. Instead, I spend my life washing face masks, and stepping around people I encounter in an exaggerated fashion so they know I am being considerate of their health. I am tired. Tired of the need to be constantly alert for danger from others, tired of having to remember the rules and how they apply on any given day to any given situation, tired of wondering if and when things will get back to normal.
And yet I am one of the lucky ones. I haven’t been sick. No one I am close to has died. Our particular restrictions here in BC have been less stringent than in other provinces and countries. As an introvert I am reasonably content to stay home mostly (although I sometimes wish the rest of my family didn’t have to do the same!). My husband, who works in a hospital, got his first vaccination shot today, so maybe the end is in sight.
In the meantime, I study and read and knit. And here are another completed pair of socks: