When I reviewed the year 2020 recently in an objective state of mind I was surprised by how many positive things have happened to me because of the pandemic.
I have become more introspective which helped me develop more empathy, something badly missing from my mental make-up. I managed to renew old friendships that I had neglected these last few years and I was able to hone my writing skills because I had more time to write.
Of course, I have regrets too.
I am sorry about having been robbed of the opportunity to live “normally” during most of the last twelve months, and about having had to say ‘good-bye’ to some of my friends whom Covid has claimed. And I very much regret having been prevented from holding my latest great-grandson in my arms…
For exercise, I walk around the lake and wave at the few people I meet along the way, but I don’t talk to them. They wear masks and I don’t know who they are; besides, as I walk, I am too busy thinking about the plot of the next book I am planning to write.
A friend sent me a very a propos poster the other day.
However threatening Covid 19 is, I console myself by remembering what my late friend, Ted, said when I visited him about a decade ago.
The weather was dreadful: strong gusts of wind were driving pellets of freezing rain into my face as I walked toward Ted’s house.
“What awful weather,” I said while shaking water from my umbrella in his kitchen.
“The weather is just fine,” he replied.
Puzzled, I asked “Have you looked outside?”
“The weather is just fine as long as there are no bullets flying,” he replied with a strong Polish accent. (He, like I, had seen battle during World War Two – he in Warsaw, I in Budapest).
He was right, of course.
Unfortunately, the problem with Covid19 is that YOU CAN’T SEE THE SHOOTER.