Returning

 

There’s a young buck peering out of his hiding place. I feel like that as I slowly and cautiously return to what used to be normal. The pandemic is not over, but for those of us who have received the vaccine, we are venturing out more. I continue to wear a mask in stores and at church. Some people don’t, but since I haven’t had a cold since I started wearing a mask, I think there’s considerable value in the practice. However, outside I feel safe—though still shy. I’m not hugging many folks anymore. 

Over the past month, I have come across people I used to see on a regular basis. Just last week, when I went to the local park and took this photo of the young buck, I stopped by the lake as well. Sitting on a folding chair and holding onto a fishing rod was a man I used to see just about every week. He served subs to hubby and I. He was always cheerful and chatty. But there he was by the lake waiting for a fish to bite his hook. I was so delighted to see him and so happy to know he lived through the past fifteen months. He’s not working at the sub shop anymore. He’s working at a bagel shop. I’ll have to go there and see him again.

Hubby and I went to buy a pair of slippers for his mother in Boscov’s. As we passed through the men’s department, we got a wave from the salesman who has helped hubby in the past to choose new suits. Just seeing a familiar face is a joy. Not only because it’s been fifteen months, but because there are those who caught the virus and now have permanent health problems. And there are those who died.

So now I cherish seeing old acquaintances with joy in my heart and pray that this terrible scourge will be defeated. Journey carefully, my friends.