The other day I invited two friends over for a visit. We formed a woman’s group that usually meets monthly, but we hadn’t come together in months. All of us are seniors and they are both more cautious than I am regarding the coronavirus. So, I suggested we could sit either outside or inside (not having checked on the late morning temperature).

When they arrived, one friend (call her “E”) came to the front door and told me that my other friend (“R”) was walking around the side of the house to enter by the lanai side door. Clearly, she had decided she preferred to sit outside, in spite of the early morning Florida heat and humidity. We moved our chairs into three spots of shade we found and visited for 1.5 hours.

The entire time we spoke about nothing but the coronavirus, or topics related to it, such as scheduling doctor appointments and haircuts. In our defense, there wasn’t much more going on (unless you count the civil unrest). I realized at one point the narrow framework of the conversation; it never occurred to me to suggest we talk about the larger implications of the virus or its effects on our lives.