Our Changing World - Hustak
It has often been said that absence makes the heart grow fonder. But as Charlie Brown once reminded us in a Peanuts comic strip, “It sure makes the rest of you lonely.”
Each of us now experience the absence of friends and family, aunts, cousins and uncles, nephews and nieces, neighbors and all those people who are so special to us. We talk to neighbours through screened doors and window panes. That does not especially make our hearts grow fonder.
My 94-year old aunt lives down the lane, and not being able to visit her for her birthday does not really make my heart grow fonder.
I try to fill the absences in my life and keep in touch with friends in distant places, friends that perhaps I won’t be able to travel easily to see for a very long time, especially those in Montreal where I lived for 50 years. I worry especially about them because a close friend has lost her father to COVID-19, and three colleagues have now tested positive for the virus.
Like so many others, we’ve now become dependent on the internet to maintain contact with
the family and friends who are so important to us. We’ve Zoomed, Skyped, Facetimed, telephoned and Messengered. And we’ve also emailed and texted, although these latter lack the intimacy we crave.
I get a kick seeing my nephews and nieces on Facebook. These delightful children lift my spirits, possibly because everything they do, is in spite of the pandemic, so innocent, so full of carefree, youthful joy.
Maintaining these contacts, no matter how we do it allows us to escape the anxiety of isolation and the stress of not knowing when or how this will all end.
Vitual contact offers a degree of comfort, an assurance that we are part of a community that still cares.
Life goes on.
There are moments though, that I wonder if, given my age, if I will survive this pandemic. I am somehow certain I will, but I fear that things will not return to normal again for a long, long time. I am concerned that once summer comes, we may throw caution to the wind.
I write this I don’t feel so sanguine about the physical absence of these dear ones in my life.
It does not make my heart grow fonder. It breaks it.
~~~ With thanks to journalist Alan Hustak ~~~ Fort Qu’Appelle Times, April 24, 2020 (Reprinted with permission)
Each of us now experience the absence of friends and family, aunts, cousins and uncles, nephews and nieces, neighbors and all those people who are so special to us. We talk to neighbours through screened doors and window panes. That does not especially make our hearts grow fonder.
My 94-year old aunt lives down the lane, and not being able to visit her for her birthday does not really make my heart grow fonder.
I try to fill the absences in my life and keep in touch with friends in distant places, friends that perhaps I won’t be able to travel easily to see for a very long time, especially those in Montreal where I lived for 50 years. I worry especially about them because a close friend has lost her father to COVID-19, and three colleagues have now tested positive for the virus.
Like so many others, we’ve now become dependent on the internet to maintain contact with
the family and friends who are so important to us. We’ve Zoomed, Skyped, Facetimed, telephoned and Messengered. And we’ve also emailed and texted, although these latter lack the intimacy we crave.
I get a kick seeing my nephews and nieces on Facebook. These delightful children lift my spirits, possibly because everything they do, is in spite of the pandemic, so innocent, so full of carefree, youthful joy.
Maintaining these contacts, no matter how we do it allows us to escape the anxiety of isolation and the stress of not knowing when or how this will all end.
Vitual contact offers a degree of comfort, an assurance that we are part of a community that still cares.
Life goes on.
There are moments though, that I wonder if, given my age, if I will survive this pandemic. I am somehow certain I will, but I fear that things will not return to normal again for a long, long time. I am concerned that once summer comes, we may throw caution to the wind.
I write this I don’t feel so sanguine about the physical absence of these dear ones in my life.
It does not make my heart grow fonder. It breaks it.
~~~ With thanks to journalist Alan Hustak ~~~ Fort Qu’Appelle Times, April 24, 2020 (Reprinted with permission)
What makes me the most anxious during this time is the not knowing. How long is this going to last?! But I could drive myself crazy with that question, because there is no answer. So I try to focus on what we do know.
ReplyDeleteI have no family in the province, and so for me, the possibility that we will soon be able to gather with friends, while at a safe distance, fills me with happiness. Yes, we are being encouraged to choose only a few friends and not to become like a butterfly, flitting from one place to another. Yes, we have been connecting via email and phone calls, but to actually be in each other's presence, even if we can't hug, will be a blessing.
And while there will still be the dearest of friends with whom I cannot yet gather, (and I need to not let myself dwell too deeply on this), I hopefully pray that perhaps this too may soon become a possibility.