As I write this in December, I am listening to our prime minister deliver a COVID-19 vaccination announcement.
A quarter-million doses from Pfizer are arriving this month, so by the time you read this, they should be here, approved by Health Canada. This is the tricky dose: it must be kept at an atrociously cold temperature, so transporting and storing it will be . . . interesting.
We will also be crossing fingers for the Moderna vaccine to drop, as well as a host of others in the pipeline. If you Google it, you may be amazed at how many are in development, testing or production. I’m personally rooting for Saskatoon’s own INTERVAC; call me a patriot.
Health care professionals were admitting to feeling giddy about this news from the PM. It’s certainly a huge step on the journey to reopening our lives and economies. Unfortunately, it’s also going to take a while to gain herd immunity, so I suspect we will continue to distance, isolate, sanitize and mask up for quite some time.
But maybe this is the light at the end of the tunnel, assuming another nasty bug does not arise. The problem, of course, is that we still live on a planet overrun by humans who like to travel, hug, smooch, have sex, shop, eat and drink together and generally just simply connect. Seems reasonable. Seems simple. And yet it isn’t. We’ve had quite a lesson in how not simple life is.
Millions of comments have been made about kicking 2020 in the backside, throwing it in the garbage, being unable to wait for it to end. And now it has.
But we can’t afford to forget 2020. We (fingers crossed) learned so many things that will help us in the future. How to protect ourselves and our loved ones in case of crisis; heck, how to protect the guy standing next to you in the grocery store. How to isolate without losing our minds (for the most part). How to stay in touch without spreading disease. How to play chess, cook and bake more often, study online, set up an office in a closet, and hopefully, how not to hoard toilet paper. We, especially in northern climes, must hang on until summer — perhaps spring? — and try to bring our bottled-up desires and energies to the economy, while rediscovering actual human interaction. Carefully.
It will be a long time, perhaps a very long time, before we do return to a full “normal.” Elbow bumps will replace handshakes. The economy will lumber and lurch and sputter and recover, while many of us will continue to work from home, at least part-time and perhaps forever. There will be many vacant storefronts, certainly for a while. Many of us will decide not to travel for another year or possibly two. I personally cannot imagine climbing onto a cruise ship, but maybe that’s just me.
Some of us have lost loved ones. Some of us have been sick. Some of us have lost jobs and businesses. Some of us desperately miss our people. Some of us have not held or attended funerals, weddings, church services or baptisms.
But we have also persevered. It’s what we do. This year will also be bumpy, but I think the ride will be less terrifying and a bit of hope will rise with the sun.
I asked some fellow authors to share their thoughts on 2021. They’re perhaps a little cheerier than mine. And I love knowing what people from elsewhere are thinking; we are all in the same boat and on the same planet.
Kathleen Marple Kalb (New York):
One late summer day, we will know that the worst is over, and we will go out into our streets and driveways and lawns, and hug because WE CAN. We’ll cry for the people who didn’t make it, and we will never, ever, complain about being bored again.
Bambi Sommers (Ohio):
I believe some things will continue even after COVID. Some employers will find lower overhead with employees working from home, people will continue to order groceries, etc., online because it saves them time. We will come out of this adapting to a bright new world.
Mario Dell’Olio (New York):
I think many of us will find ourselves on new paths, careers, relationships, dwellings. Or perhaps reaffirming what is good in our lives. Positive change is on the horizon. And from the life does go on camp . . .
Conor Bredin (Dublin):
Bad things will happen. Good things will happen. We’ll be happy some days and sad other days. But if we give it our all, we will persevere. Oh, and you’ll probably step in dog poop at some stage. Heads up. He’s obviously right.
-Joanne Paulson
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