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Today was my Sabbath, and it started out as it usually does. But as the day wore on, I found myself feeling the fog and heaviness of the virus: fines being charged in Osceola County for not wearing masks, for one.
I still persisted in my time of prayer, meditation, and study. My restlessness was pervasive, so I finally went outside to admire my many orchid plants, removing old leaves, admiring the mix of white, purple, and yellow blossoms, and enjoying the thought of how the lanai would soon be crowded with color.
Then we went out to dinner to Beef O’Brady’s, a chain restaurant; the food is reliable and the staff is always friendly.
But it was closed.
A note on the door expressed the regrets of the owners to its faithful customers. I felt so bad. They just couldn’t make it. And I thought of all their wait staff who would probably find it hard to find jobs almost anywhere in the area, as restrictive measures continue to grow.
As we left the parking lot, I noticed a man parked with his trunk open. I looked over my shoulder and saw a sign that said “Masks: Adults and Children.” I didn’t think to stop, since we were trying to decide where to go for dinner. He’s probably just trying to get by and get through this time, as so many are. I wish I’d bought a mask.
We went to the restaurant in our development. It was open, but there was hardly anyone inside. They’ve been having live music lately, but the singer/guitarist wasn’t there. I don’t know if he left for a more profitable venue or if he was let go.
As empty as the restaurant was, I wondered how the wait staff was getting by on limited tips. We left an extra big tip for Santos, who is always friendly and polite.
When we got home, though, life seemed a bit brighter. We decided to walk around our cul-de-sac, which is brightly and beautifully decorated for the season. This year was our most abundant lighting ever. (More on the street later this week.) People drove by in golf carts and waved and said hello. It’s wonderful to know, especially this year, that we are bringing a little joy to our neighbors all over our development.
And then when we returned home, I saw that I had a voice mail. It was from the friend with whom I did a movement practice on Wednesdays on WhatsApp while she was in her Chicago apartment; she had become upset with my response to her Covid concern. She was about to return to Florida at that time. After our spat and her return, I texted about our practicing together; she politely said she wanted to take a break. Tonight was the first time she’s contacted me in weeks.
I’m so glad. And touched. She said she’d been very stressed over Covid and how it had affected her family. (I had no idea.) She said that although we had different views (she’s on the left), we had always been able to put them aside to maintain our friendship, and she just wanted to touch base.
I will call her in the morning. This is a time to come together and to move on.Published in