This blog is written by Lee Gale Gruen to help baby boomers, seniors, retirees, and those soon to retire find joy, excitement, and purpose in life after retirement. Her public lecture on this subject is titled: “Reinventing Yourself in Your Retirement.” Her memoir, Adventures with Dad: A Father and Daughter’s Journey Through a Senior Acting Class, is available by clicking here Amazon.com. Click here for her website: LeeGaleGruen.com
Now, on to my blog:
There are so many things I miss in this time of lockdown over Covid 19 concerns. Being inside for hours and days at a time is getting old. Yes, we’re all getting crabby, irritable, and downright testy. We want to go out and about, further than permitted by walks or other means of bodily transportation (bicycles, skateboards, golf carts, or–yikes–cars) limited to minimal distances abutting our own abodes. We want to travel to distant lands, domestic or international, in the flesh, not as armchair adventurers. We want to connect with our loved ones in person, not virtually.
I miss hugging my son. Pre-coronavirus, he used to visit me each weekend for our alone time apart from his wife and children (my adorable grandchildren). Since the shelter-in-place order, we’d been limited to telephone and FaceTime connection. Interaction via technology is fine temporarily but doesn’t hack it in the long run. I miss hanging out with him in person.
“Maybe you could come over, and we’ll sit outside six feet or even ten feet apart and just chat. We can wear masks, too.”
“Mom, I could be a carrier without even knowing it. I’d never forgive myself if I passed the virus onto you.”
Son finally hit upon an idea which we’ve tried out a few times with success. He sits outside on my patio next to my sliding glass doors. I sit in the house on the other side of said doors, and we’re able to look at each other. As the doors have to remain shut to act as a virus barrier, it cuts down on auditory communication. So, we talk to each other on our telephones in place of shouting. We press palms together with the glass in between, like an inmate and visitor in jail. Hey, at this stage, I’ll take whatever I can get. At least it’s great material for a blog.
I’ve been ordering my food from online delivery services, adhering to the entreaties of my son to stay home. Now, I salivate when I think of going to the market to purchase sustenance. What used to be a chore has turned into a coveted dream. I envy my friends who make forays to the grocery store.
I long to push a shopping cart down those interminable aisles; compare prices of different brands; and test the weight of two pieces of produce, one in each hand, pondering which is heaviest and the better deal if they are priced by the piece, bunch, package, carton… I yearn to hunt for hidden dents in cans; inspect bananas for bruises; toss my own cloth bags onto the checkout conveyor belt to avoid bag charges and contribute to saving trees; and eye the cash register for inaccuracies.
Ah, the little things. How I miss them.
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