Everything really did change

 

Pre-pandemic dinner with good friends
L. to R., me, Betty, Jean, and Jeannie
at Trinity Terrace

A dear friend came for happy hour tonight, and it got me to thinking how Covid really did change our worlds. Before Covid, for twenty-five years or more, Betty and I went to dinner once a week. In recent years, our dinners had become a Wednesday evening ritual. We had some grand adventures trying new and unknown restaurants. I remember once taking her to explore a part of town, not far away, that she never knew existed, and if memory serves, I once took her cemetery exploring. She was Aunt Betty to Jacob and his parents. We laughed a lot, and we drank a sufficient amount of wine.

With Covid that came to a crashing halt. Betty and her husband had owned a steak and hamburger restaurant in the Stockyards for years. In fact, for a few years I used to help on Saturday nights—running the cash register, rolling silverware, hostessing when Betty was busy. When Covid came, they still went to the restaurant every night on weekends—no one was vaccinated or masked, and I wasn’t willing to risk it. Betty came once or twice for wine on the patio at a great distance, but we never ever thought of going to dinner.

And somehow we never picked it up again. Tonight it was like falling into an old relationship—except it wasn’t. Her husband is now elderly (aren’t we all?) and she mostly spends her days taking care of him. She’s been to the cottage a couple of times, but after an hour she’s always anxious to get back to him. I stopped trying to serve her dinner and started saying happy hour. But since the world shut down in March 2020, I’ve probably only seen her a handful of times.

In the meantime I became sort of a recluse. Christian wondered how I could be content in the cottage after I’d had an active social life, but content I was. In fact, when I first began to get out, it was a big deal that I had to gear myself up for. I told myself—and I think it’s true—because of the walker and not driving, it’s easier for me to stay home and invite people to visit.

But other changes. I love to grocery shop, browsing the aisles for things that inspire me to cook. I even love driving those motorized carts they have. I had been using Central Market’s curbside shopping service for some time, but with Covid it became my primary grocery source—that and sending Jordan to Albertson’s. Both are wonderful, neither are perfect, and I’ve ended up with some weird items, a lifetime supply of some things, and not enough of others. Since quarantine lifted and I was well boosted, I’ve been to Albertson’s a couple of times. Whole Foods once, Central Market once, and Trader Joe’s a couple of times. Thanks to Mary Dulle for several of those trips.

During quarantine, I fell into a routine for my days that persists until this day. Work in the morning, an afternoon nap, followed by checking email and cooking dinner. Lately I’ve been reading and writing late into the night and sleeping late in the mornings. Sophie also has her routine—breakfast at five-thirty, back outside at seven-fifteen, and then inside until I get up to stay, which is usually eight-thirty.

Along the way, the nature of my friendships has changed. Some people that I used to see have dropped away and my few overtures toward them have met with politeness but nothing more. I’ve decided they didn’t really enjoy my company, certainly not enough to come to happy hour. But other friendships have strengthened. Jean and I were always good friends, but we see much more of each other these days, a habit developed during quarantine. She was one of the few people I knew who was as careful about exposure as I was. Recently widowed, she was alone in her house and, I suspected, lonely. So she came often for wine and supper and now it’s grown to be a once-a-week thing most weeks. There are others I see more of these days, whether it’s a result of pandemic or not, I don’t know—I suppose it’s the nature of friendship to ebb and flow like tides. But I am most grateful for my friends.

During quarantine, Jacob and Jordan were home all the time. Jordan and I planned menus and cooked dinners together—and the family ate in the cottage. I loved it—the cooking and the companionship. Now they’re back to their busy schedules, and it’s been an adjustment for me. But we still eat together three or four nights a week. And I cook often enough to keep me happy.

Maybe quarantine simply accelerated part of the aging process for me, slowing my extracurricular life which would have happened sooner or later. But I have only a few regrets. My new life is without a lot of the stresses of the old. Life is good, and I’m relaxed and happy.