When Normal Feels Abnormal

 

Copyright © 2022

by Ralph F. Couey

After two very long years, the long claws of the Pandemic are finally loosening their grip.  Over the past few months, states and municipalities began to relax the stringent requirements, such as masking, public gatherings, even the number of shoppers that could be in a store at any given time.  Hawai'i was the last state to drop the mask mandate, which they did on March 25.  This was a major concession by the state which had, hands down, the strictest controls in place.  That was followed this month by the ending of the mask mandate on airliners, buses, and other public transportation.  This was met with a lot of dismay, and an attempt to extend the mandate was struck down by an appellate court.  It would seem that "normal", however one might define that, was finally making a comeback.

The transition was abrupt.  At least it seemed that way.  The first day, March 26, I had occasion to visit the local WalMart.  So ingrained was the need for a mask that as I approached the door, I began to feel like I was missing something.  Entering the store, I slowed, expecting to be accosted by one of the blue-vested workers, but no such entreaty was heard.  I went deeper into the store, maskless, feeling...well, weird.  Looking around, I saw about an even mix between the masked and unmasked.  But nobody complained, so I completed my shopping uneventfully, except for noting with excitement the return to the shelves of my favorite breakfast cereals, Special K and Rice Crispies.  A problem at the Kellogg's plant produced a shortage of those and a couple other cereals for several months.  

Since that day, I've been trying to get used to the new situation.  It was hard, going through the McDonald's drive through, to not reach for a mask.  Even filling gas had required a mask, even though it took place outside.  At work, in a meeting with our boss and other supervisors, at one point in the middle of a serious discussion about the approaching hurricane season (yes, we get them out here), I began to chuckle.  The boss looked at me and inquired what was so funny.  I replied, "Sorry, I just haven't seen your face for two years."  That brought a laugh from everyone.  At church, we can use hymnals and sing again.  Still, it all feels strange.  And why should normal not feel...normal?

Over the past two years, we have been living with a virus that proved to be serious, and deadly.  The fear was sold hard by the government and the media, and we all walked around scared that this unseen enemy could at any moment leap out and grab us, like a mountain lion lying in wait along a hiking trail.  We became accustomed to living with the fear, like learning to walk with a limp.  Now, with the Pandemic on the wane, the fear remains.  I still see a lot of people using masks, even to the point of wearing one while driving with the windows up and A/C on.  I don't have any problem with that.  It's up to us as individuals to choose the level of risk we live with.  I followed the rules, got all the shots, and survived without ever getting sick even though my job with Hawai'i Emergency Management Agency required me to be at work while everyone else was locked down.  The thing is, I don't want to live with fear.  Life requires us to challenge it, pushing back against adversity and conquering our fears.  I have enough baggage without adding fear to the load.

What happens next?  Wish I knew.  It might be that since the masking resulted in a record low flue season last year that the mandate could be reinstated during the winter months.  We can only wait and see.  We are told that there are scores of dangerous diseases out there that could strike with little or no warning.  But all I can do is to live my life with the freedom to choose, something that has been lacking the past two years.  As the long-awaited "normal" reasserts itself, perhaps we can get past the fear.  

In May, Cheryl and I will fly to Virginia to visit with our son's family, to include three grandkids sorely in need of spoiling.  I think that getting off this island and onto an airplane without a mask will do much to help me to embrace normal.  

That, and a lot of hugs on the other end of that journey.