How long has it been now? 6 months? In the course of our lives that doesn’t feel like much, but I think for all of us, it’s been the longest 6 months anyone can remember. It’s like a clock that is missing a gear tooth, a second here or there doesn’t feel missing, but after hours and days, those seconds add up.
It started with college Spring Breaks extended. First a week, then two...then events began canceling: concerts, music festivals, big social gatherings. People started missing out.
The Friday before me and my son’s Spring Break, there was supposed to be a “donuts with dad” breakfast. My son and I got up early because I had to be at work and I wanted to at least have a donut before I left. When we got to the school it was locked. I thought “Did we miss it? Was this the right day?” But an office lady came out to tell us all events had been cancelled, including the “donuts with dad”.
WIth a shrug, and plenty of time, I took my son to the local grocery store. We were going to have donuts anyway. The store was packed for 7am on a Friday morning. It was like a Sunday afternoon right after the church crowd got out. That’s when I noticed every single person, every single cart, had at least a case of toilet paper. After my son and I got a donut each and a bottle of juice, I meandered to the wall where the paper products were stored. That's when I saw the empty shelf, all the toilet paper gone.
It wasn’t too serious at first, kind of comical. People making jokes, no one panicking, kids not missing the fact they wouldn’t have to go to school for two weeks, maybe three... maybe four.
But by Saturday the shelves were empty. Frozen food shelves were vacant, fresh produce, bananas, meat nowhere to be found. But there was still fish. By the end of the day the news said 24 hours grocery stores would only be open from 8am to 8pm.
On Sunday there was a line wrapped around the store at 7:30am.
Most disappointing of all, my coupon app suddenly stopped working. I was missing out on the deals.
On Monday the stores were still open, they had time to restock some of the shelves, but things were still missing. The only fresh produce was cabbage and cilantro. That night we heard Spring Break was extended by a week.
By Tuesday night it was extended another week.
On Thursday three aisles of paper products were empty. No paper towels, no TP, no facial tissue. Even the thermometers were gone. Meat was still gone, the bakery shut down, no fresh bread, no samples...0 coupons available on the app.
Bars, restaurants and gyms were proclaimed closed.
On Friday we made an unfortunate trip to Costco. Again no paper products, frozen vegetables were missing. Isaw a pallet of baby wipes rolled out to the floor, in 15 minutes it was empty… so we bought 25lbs of rice.
Saturday morning there was still a line around the grocery store and they were only letting 50 people in at a time.
The following Monday the line moved faster. There were armed security guards and hash marks on the sidewalk to indicate space. Red stickers on the floor to stay away from cashers, plastic shields grew in front of checkers like translucent weeds. After 2 weeks we finally got some TP.
The Olympics were cancelled.
On Tuesday a shelter in place order was issued for the next two weeks. That was the first news of workers walking out, not for fear of missing work, but fear of dying.
Wednesday, schools officially closed another week. Oklahoma shut down its schools for the remainder of the year.
That Sunday our family went for a walk around the park. It was a beautiful day, 72 degrees, no clouds, a nice breeze. People walking everywhere, all over the place, I’d never seen so many people walking at the park. It was as if all was right in the world and we were all collectively out for a nice walk. People were out in their front yards, garages were open. The playground was roped off with flimsy yellow tape, but kids were still running around.
I remember seeing a “Lost Dog” poster. Someone had printed out a black and white picture of their dog and used packing tape to post it on a dark pink poster board. It was some bizarre image of normalcy in the crazy uncertainty of the time. I thought, are pets really lost? In all probability the pet was either dead or picked up by animal control (probably dead) so the pet wasn’t lost. It was missing. The signs should say “Missing Dog” or “Missing Cat”. They don’t get lost, they go missing.
I felt more and more fortunate to have an income as people lost theirs through no fault of their own. They wanted to work, they liked working, but companies told them to stop, it was too much of a risk. People were struggling, people were dying and on Sundays I walked with my family in this weird picturesque neighborhood of people walking with their dogs and children.
The next Tuesday Spring Break extended to May 4. No one is buying it. We all knew it was over until August.
That Wednesday on a Zoom meeting with school, stories of kids whose families had lost jobs, then needing food and needing toilet paper started circulating.
Friday, schools start closing classes for the rest of the year, and plastic boxes surrounded cashiers at the grocery store checkout.
The UK Prime Minister caught it.
My students messaged me via email or virtual classrooms, missing their friends. As much as they said they hated school, they miss it. I get word one of my students doesn’t have food, or toilet paper or Clorox wipes. Her mom only speaks Spanish.
At the grocery store only a handful of people were wearing masks, but that slowly evolved to only a handful of people not wearing them.
My School canceled for the remainder of the year.
Before too long, it became mandatory to wear masks in public places.
Everyone was missing the normal times. Everyone missed smiles, missed hugs, missed seeing each other at the bar, at the store, at birthday parties.
Our Sunday walks continued, and more and more people were in the park wearing masks. My children missed playing on the playground. The “Lost Dog” posters hung lazily on the remains of their dusty tape. The deep pink poster faded to a splotchy white, rain beaten and sun bleached.
My son turned 6. He did not miss school. He liked the time with his family.
My daughter missed daycare, missed her friends. How does a 2 year old remember names?
We moved to a new house. Newly built, designed ourselves. There was no housewarming party. It is much bigger than the last. I don’t miss the last, I don’t think the kids do either. My dog does, and my cat. They don’t have a doggy door to the outside anymore. They’re the only ones who miss it. But now they can’t get lost...they can’t go missing.
I’m going to work, to teach, to empty desks, missing students, wearing masks, missing faces.
My son is too, with a mask, missing his family.
I’ll have new students, less than ten in a classroom. Missing their friends still. Some of them will have lost family, friends...a house.
I have school supplies, but I can’t give them out. I have stickers, with no papers to stick them on.
I remember cafeteria duty, bus duty. The crowds of kids jostling for seats at long plastic tables. The hugs and kisses, the punches on shoulders. The assistant principals saying “Don’t do that,” or “Hey, how are you?” The tired faces, the fresh makeup. The smiles.
Where will those be when kids have to eat 6 feet apart? Where will those be when 25% of 2000 is 500? What is 25% of a smile? What is 25% of a memory? What will my now 3 year old remember? How many names will my 6 year old remember? 25%?
But that’s not what we want. We miss it. But that’s not what we want. We want to go back to work. We want everything to be normal.
Everything is trying to go back to normal.
But something’s missing.
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