Enjoying cannolis in Boston’s North End with dear friends Liana and Joanne during their recent Boston visit.

Here in the U.S., various pronouncements have told us that the pandemic is, in essence, over. Of course, COVID hasn’t exactly disappeared. People continue to catch it, and some get very sick and even die from it. But the infection numbers are way down, and for many, the sense that we are living under an awful cloud appears to have lifted.

Personally, it has become my nature not to assume that matters beyond my control will either stop or start. Change is the only constant, right? I will continue to take some precautions, including wearing a mask during extended subway rides, or applying hand sanitizer after touching surfaces in public. (Both measures, I hope, will also help me to avoid other bugs that might be going around.)

Memories and reflections, still being processed

In the meantime, for anyone alive and aware of the state of the world since early 2020, references to “the pandemic” will likely generate a bounty of memories for the rest of our lives. Just think of how many of our conversations include variations of “during the pandemic” or “before the pandemic.” Our personal timelines will be defined in part by this momentous event.

During this spring, I found myself thinking a lot about the first half of 2020, when COVID landed hard in the U.S. A signature moment for me during that time was a personal reckoning that I could be living in virtual shutdown mode for at least the next year. I pretty much knew that this was not a short-term thing. In addition to wanting to avoid getting horribly sick, I wondered how this might affect my emotional well-being. I drew inspiration from the fact that two generations ago, members of my family had experienced the Second World War. I also recognized that I had resources to weather this storm, including a relatively secure job that I could do remotely.

For me, the pandemic brought a variety of major and minor changes, ups and downs, and a few genuine opportunities for growth and human connection.

For many others, life sort of froze during the pandemic. Some refer to these as “lost” years that cannot be recovered. Countless millions had to deal with job losses and financial insecurity, and folks valiantly struggled to keep their businesses afloat. A lot of people got very sick, many died, and a good number of survivors are still dealing with health complications. Many have had to grieve over the loss of loved ones.

Overall, our lives were significantly, sometimes brutally, disrupted.

In sum, these past three years have left their mark on virtually every aspect of everyday life. We are still assessing the costs (human and otherwise) of this time, and we are still defining what the new normal really means. 

In any event, for now…

…and hopefully for good, I will conclude this series of pandemic-themed posts.

A few weeks ago, two dear, long-time friends visited Boston. Our friendship was forged during a 1981 semester abroad in England, which included some wonderful travel adventures together. Several decades later, we greatly enjoyed each other’s company once more, as sightseeing, food, and conversation made our short visit feel like a mini-vacation.

During our guided walking tour of Boston’s Freedom Trail, we encountered countless other tour groups exploring the city’s historic sites. The streets were busy. Restaurants seemed more crowded. I found myself much less cognizant of the pandemic. Was this letting my guard down, or perhaps a transition into a new phase? I’m not quite certain, but I sure had fun. 

Yes, once again, life could change at a moment’s notice. After all, the pandemic has taught us a lot about our vulnerabilities to big situations that suddenly present themselves. But I’m not living in fear of that possibility. Rather, I’m grateful for the new semblance of normalcy that is breathing energy back into our lives. Onward, with fingers crossed.