Spring in the time of coronavirus II
In many ways this is a stranger time than the year after the hurricane. After the hurricane, we had no electricity, no Internet, sometimes no water, and only limited contact with the outside world. We had no real news. Within our own small contexts, we had contact, companionship, community, family. We could come together to help each other do what needed to be done, to care for each other, to help each other get through the grief and the fear and the darkness.
In this strange time we have all those things we were missing - electric, water, Internet, TV, news. (Although how "real" any of the news is is debatable.) But - by design and intent - we have very little human contact.
It's surreal. In a place where cheek kisses and invasions of personal space are the norm, people now stand apart from each other, trying to ignore the person closest to them because that person might be infected or might be a carrier. We cannot, we are forbidden to come together for comfort.
The fear - and the danger - are real. But they are exacerbated by a national government more focused on the "leader's" self-image than the national welfare. The media - the "news" - is either down-playing the threat or over-hyping the sensational. Either way, it is not helpful.
The "social-distancing," whether imposed from within or by decree as it is here in Puerto Rico, is already taking a toll. And there is no end in sight.
We are actually quite fortunate. Our finances are not dependent on a pay-check-to-pay-check job. And we don't live in an apartment. Our house is open and airy; we have a yard for our dogs to play in. We have 22 acres of ranch that we can be in without "leaving home." In fact, to tend to the well-being of our horses, we have to be out in the farm. So we have it much better than many others. And we have each other.
But I miss going out with friends to Ola Lola's. Or dinner with Carole. I miss our Horses of Hope volunteers and riders. I wish we could bring them to the ranch. But you know what I mean. I'm sure you're in the same state of isolation (unless you're doing spring break in Florida). We're all in it together, even if we're separated. And we're in it for the long haul.
Stay safe.
Spring in the time of coronavirus