a moment of contemplation

The holiday today (it's Martin Luther King Jr. Day, for those of you who do not live in this country) always offers a moment of quiet. Of reflection and commitment. Of opportunity. 

 

We continue to have very small amounts of snow, so yes, it does feel like January, but the temps are just below freezing. Very reasonable. January can be much meaner than this.

Breakfast, late, leisurely.

I have a Zoom get together with my friends in Poland. Covid catch-up still takes a chunk of time and of course, I have my own updates to share. Omicron hasn't hit Poland hard yet. We're the ones struggling with it.

 

By afternoon the sun is out and I prepare to drive over to my daughter's house. Because there is a fresh case of active Covid in her home, I can't be sure that those heretofore uninfected will remain uninfected. To be safe, I arrange to do outdoor stuff with Snowdrop. Ice skating comes to mind. It's perfect weather for it! As an added precaution, the parents do a rapid test on the girl to make sure she remains negative. 

She's not negative. Somehow Omicron left her alone for a good ten days of familial infections, but today it reached her as well. (Her mom is now the only one in the household who remains negative! Who knows why. She's been with the infected boys round the clock, just like the dad. He is sick. She is not.)

You know what my reaction is? Well, first of all, I want to drive out there and leave a few things for the kids. Snowdrop is asymptomatic, but her infection stretches the confinement and isolation for her, for the parents (Sparrow is able to return to school tomorrow). That's just such a bummer, especially on this very pretty day.

(I am reminded of the earlier months of the pandemic when I would routinely "visit" with the kids standing on their back deck, looking in...)

 

My second reaction is that I should test myself, given my time with her last week.

I'm negative.

Is that a good thing? Well, yes. For nearly two years I have been obsessively trying to keep us negative, because we don't want to come down with a serious disease that is overwhelming the health care system and killing thousands by the day. And equally importantly, I did not want to infect the little kids. Maybe they are less vulnerable than we are, but they are little and infections are pernicious and I was not going to bring it into their home if I could help it.

But now all the Madison grandkids will have had the Covid and so bringing it to them becomes a moot worry. And if you are vaccinated, isn't it the case that, with Omicron, you are quite safe from serious disease? So shouldn't I lessen my hyper vigilance now? Should I really carry the burden of worry with me going forward?

 

Since I could not take Snowdrop skating, Ed and I took a walk along the trail in the Nature Conservancy.

The light is beautiful -- a deep gold with bronze overtones. With each step I cannot help but return to the same question: could it be that with Omicron, with such huge numbers of people getting infected, could it be that we will finally be done with the pandemic?

It could be.

 

Oh, excuse me, FaceTime is calling. Hello, Primrose!

With love....