Over the years, I have worked nights, weekends, and holidays at the newspaper, and Kathleen has worked days and weekends at the church. In recent years, on the few days off we have in common, we have taken to sharing a bottle of prosecco or a couple of Manhattans on the front porch, talking quietly about the day and watching the sun go down.
Now, as we are isolated by the coronavirus pandemic, those late afternoons have taken on a new flavor.
Our children are isolated and our constant concern. Kathleen's parents are isolated at their retirement home and also our concern. Our other relatives are our concern. And though we take precautions, staying at home generally and going out with the masks Kathleen has sewn for us, we know the hazards. it's quite possible that either of us will contract the ccoronavirus. It's possible that we will not display any symptoms and it will all be over. It's possible that one of us will develop symptoms and be dead within five days with lungs full of fluid.
We know how many have suffered already.
That makes those evenings on the porch, which I mark with posts and photos on Facebook and Twitter, not a display of our indulgences, but a gesture of defiance.
In the face of this terrible threat, we will celebrate our time together, enjoy our company with the marks of domestic routines and the celebration of commonplace shared pleasures, shared with our community of friends and acquaintances.
This is what we have. This is what we can do.
Lovely.
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