Settled But Not Stuck 

As I took the calendar off the bulletin board to put January behind us, it dawned on me that the last twelve months have been the most settled of my life, despite the unsettling times we are living through. The past twelve months comprise the only year in memory with so few nights spent away from wherev-er home was at the time.  Since February 1, 2020 I have slept in the same bed in the same house for 361 of the last 365 days.  With the exception of two nights last March on the weekend before the world shut down, and two nights in August, like many others across this land my mobility has been severely limit-ed by the pandemic.  Those two March nights were spent in a rented guest suite in the continuing care community where my mother resides in Assisted Living, a rendezvous with my sister occasioned by the need to review and renegotiate the terms of our mother’s continuing care. We were able to bring Mom over to the suite to share and enjoy each other’s company. The August nights were spent with well-quarantined friends at their cottage on a lake in the Adirondacks. A couple of days of kayaking, hiking, sitting by a campfire while enjoying good food and drink with friends was a welcome break in what was fast becoming our very settled life.

I use the word settled in the best sense of the term because our unexpected confinement has allowed Jan and I to enjoy the benefits of the house and property we purchased nearly twenty years ago.  With both of us retired, Paddleberry Farms is no longer the place we inhabit sporadically as an escape from the responsibilities of the workaday world.  Chores and projects no longer have to be crammed into a day off or the hours before sunset. For me, the work waits until after a time of inspirational reading and reflection and a leisurely breakfast.  Projects cease early to leave time for a paddle on a nearby lake or a snowshoe trek through fields and forest.  Late afternoons find me back in a chair with a good book either on the deck or in front of the fire. Depending on the season, Jan spends her hours in the garden, filling birdfeeders, quilting, reading or making delicious meals from a newly discovered recipe. Each of us have done our share of ZOOM meetings, and both of us have taken online courses to sharpen skills. We’ve been able to get off  the reservation to shop, attend & lead worship, engage in a service project, and visit mask to mask and socially distant with my mother.  

For the most part, we have not felt “stuck” by the pandemic.  Sure, we lament not being able to visit with our kids and grandkids or spend holidays together.  Yes, we’ve been disappointed when family weddings and a 100^th birthday celebration were transformed from in person gatherings to internet interactions. And, I’ll admit we will miss being together with friends to comment on the commercials and watch the Super Bowl. Yet, when the weathercaster is done and we turn out the light for the night, the last thoughts of the day find me giving thanks for the blessings which have come our way in the midst of the isolation brought about by the deadly virus: The gift of sharing life with Jan day in and day out, watching the seasons come and go and our garden grow. The joy of increased communication with family thanks to daily text messages. The pop up “I love you” messages from our granddaughters, and the laughter during “Hollywood Squares” gatherings with colleagues, friends, and our church com-munity. Make no mistake, when the all-clear is sounded, we look forward to the day when we can once again hit the road and sleep in familiar guest rooms or rest in a hotel bed after a day of experiencing a new place. In the meantime we’ll take it one day at a time, remembering the words of the Psalmist:                                     "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”                                                                                             Psalm 118. 24