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Chronicles of Covid,episode 49

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The weather is spectacular. No matter how much grief and rage are in the air, nature ‘does not betray the heart that loves her’ and this moment is spectacular. Perhaps even healing.

I saw friends this weekend I hadn’t seen for months and months and though we all carried the ‘just out of the bunker glaze’ they looked beautiful to me. We had a street cocktail and I felt the first steps of opening up…the city and my heart.

Earlier, I carefully stood at the circumference of a demonstration in Washington Square Park and felt the beginnings of a sense of community. My friends who had been to same demonstration later noticed that very few of the police people were wearing masks and my pal courageously asked one of the cops,” why not?” His response wasn’t very polite–it’s disappointing because I, too, have seen very few masks on men in blue. But beyond that hitch, it was peaceful. My neighborhood art center PS122, is set up with a protestor crib center, a place to refresh, get safety supplies, chat and eat. They are well organized and welcoming.

I hope that this re opening doesn’t lend itself to more infections. I can see that people and businesses are trying to be careful, but we just don’t know how this thing works. I said to a friend Rena that I believed that all my years of living with mice have given me an immunity to such things as Covid. In case it hasn’t, I went for the test, both for infection and anti-body and can only trust that their labs are good ones.

Deprivation gives you a real appreciation for the simple things and meeting up with friends and sitting outside is a wonderfully simple joy. I always like the Italian piazzas where people hang for the evening, meeting up for chats and a cafe. My city isn’t designed that way… we are grid like with fewer possibilities for piazzas…still, I believe this summer will see more people finding ways to hang and be.

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It’s hard to gauge how much emotion has been bottled up during these four months. But while watching America’s Got Talent, I found myself crying at almost every act. The tiny ten year old girl who sounded like Lady Gaga; the contortionist whose religious parents didn’t permit dancing, getting all four votes of Yes and a call to his mom from Simon Cowell; and even the three sisters whose dream it is to stand on top of each other in Las Vegas…they all had me weeping… weeping for the life force in all of us, the chi that pushes us through obstacle after obstacle, and our own belief that we may all  truly be here for a reason.

Written by nancykoan

June 8, 2020 at 10:07 pm

Posted in Uncategorized

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