If all had gone according to plan, my sister, niece and nephew would have been in Boston now for a mini-reunion. My nephew was scheduled to be back here performing with his dance troupe at the Calderwood Pavilion at the Boston Center for the Arts. We made the plans when he was here last March performing in Cambridge. He didn’t have much time then, so we were looking forward to the extended visit — especially some adventurous eating out, with stops at some of my favs, some arts-based sightseeing, maybe some shopping and downtime just hanging out at my house. We didn’t really understand what COVID was then or how would upend our lives. Two days after my nephew’s final March 2020 performance, Gov. Charlie Baker issued the first stay-at-home advisory.
Days earlier, we had been out and about, maskless — per the CDC order — but having heard enough about the still mysterious virus that I was carrying antiseptic wipes. Our actions were a study in contradictions — in restaurants, I routinely wiped off restaurant menus and tabletops, though we sat at tables in small, packed Cambridge eateries. We mostly avoided hugging, instead doing the air kiss thing. But at the performances, we all sat next to each other. And on
Sunday morning, before my nephew and the company dancers left town, my dear friend and I co-hosted a brunch at her home. It was an open house, with about thirty plus friends and acquaintances coming and going for several hours.
I recall some few who RSVP'd but begged off at the last minute, saying they weren’t quite comfortable. My co-host and I considered canceling but in the end doubled down on disinfecting, carefully plating the food. But it was still served buffet style. And there was plenty of laughing and not-too-far-apart mingling. I cringe looking back, now that I know the brunch was the exact kind of group gathering that could have been a super spreader event. Thankfully, it wasn’t. No one got sick, and it’s now a cherished memory of the before times.
Like most artists, my nephew lost work when the art venues shut down. And it wasn’t long before it was clear that even if the Boston arts venues reopened in some capacity, as they have now, it was unlikely that he would be rebooked. We accepted the reality on one of our Google Sunday morning family check-ins. We peered at each other from our multiple video screens, a brief silence stretching across the internet miles. Yet another acknowledgment of how COVID had impacted us. Even if, as the Biden administration projects, all of us are vaccinated by the end of May, it will likely be well over a year before we are all in the same place. And when that day comes, we will be grateful to be with each other in a way we didn’t appreciate before the pandemic.
Nathaniel Hawthorne said time flies over us but leaves its shadow behind. So I note this anniversary unsettled, ready to move to a post-COVID life but not quite sure what that will be. I don’t think I’ll feel safe until maybe 12 months from now, when I can feel certain I’m beyond the pandemic’s long reach — hoping to step out of COVID’s shadow forever.
