Nothing Has Changed Except Everything

It is tempting to think that not much has changed for Linda and I over the last few weeks, because from the comfort of our own home, that is how it feels. 

While mostly true, it does not tell the whole story.

Pre-corona Linda and I were already adjusting to a big change in the way we live, having chosen to give up our wheelchair accessible van and try carlessness. 

Since we have been living very locally for a very long time, we were only using our vehicle to buy groceries, and it was getting to be a very expensive grocery-getter. We had to let it go, and have no plans to replace it with another fume spewing money pit.

As soon as we let it be known that we were wheel-less, the helpers came forward, as they always do. We are so grateful to live in an area where community still means something.

Even before the lockdown started, I was hitching a ride a couple of times a month with neighbours when they were going to town (they usually go in every day or two, so there is plenty of opportunity). 

They would always ask where I needed to go, and my answer was always the same - "just the grocery store". 

Most of the time, food is all we need. We are simple that way.

Now, because Linda is considered "immunocompromised", as her caregiver I have to be extra cautious about exposing myself to The Virus. As such, I have not been to the grocery store in person for over a month.

Other helpers (you can't have too many) had already offered to pick up grocery orders for us if we ever ordered on line. At the time we didn't think we would need to go that way, but, everything, it seems, is changing. 

Our last grocery order was placed on line (our first time ever) for pick up. They needed about 3 days notice, and called us when it was ready. 

We called our neighbours, they went down to the store, parked in the designated spot, and called customer service. Helpful front line worker/heroes then brought our order outside, and put it in the open trunk of the car. 

Our friends parked in front of our place when they got home, and left the trunk open. I went out, emptied our order into our home, then texted them to let them know I was done.

Wow. That felt weird. 

But it did get groceries into the house without me being exposed to something that could possibly harm my best friend, and for that I am grateful.

I leaned on the car and felt a hankering for the good old days (a few days ago it seems) when I could see my neighbours. Or bike to the grocery store to bring home small orders. Or touch the bank door handle without thinking it could kill me, or Linda.

I don't need to get out much, but I like to enjoy the times that I do.

As I closed the trunk of the car the neighbour's 5 year old son came out of his house and approached. 

He was getting closer to me. I didn't know what to do. 

Do I need to protect both of us? 

Should I run? 

I didn't. 

He came to within a metre of me and stopped. Looking up with sad inside eyes, he said, "I can't wait until I can help you water your garden this summer".

Now a garden is a food acquisition method I can get behind. And no, I did not hug that sweet little helper. I had to hold myself back... 2 metres back. 

"I can't wait either", I said to him from a seemingly safe distance. Then it was back into lockdown for both of us.

See you in the summer garden, my little helper friend.

That won't change. 

On another note, something else that has changed, is that lots of people are dying of COVID-related illness. That includes one of my favourite singer/songwriters, John Prine. 

To him I say, "It was a wonderful 50 years of beautiful memorable songs, and I thank you."

"Plant a little garden", he sang.

Great advice.