END-OF-PANDEMIC PROBLEMS [M, 5-10-21]

REFLECTIONS ON FAITH & LIFE FOR THE YEARS OF WINTER

END-OF-PANDEMIC PROBLEMS   [M, 5-10-21]

 

At Crumble Bums in Glenn’s Garage this week, Ron told of how he had “gone” to worship in his former church, way back in Pennsylvania, via livestream. That congregation had just opened up for in-person worship again, and he wanted to see how it would go. “There were three people up in front, helping to lead,” he said. “I know them all quite well from when I was in that church. At least, I thought I did. Now they look so decrepit!”

That’s one of the problems with “opening up” after the pandemic—people are going to find out how far we have declined.

Our younger daughter, Katie Kennedy, the author, was here this past weekend. She brought grandson Joe with her. Haven’t seen them “in a coon’s age.” [Coons live 1.8 to 3.1 years, according to Google.] It was delightful to see them, but we were aware it might panic them to see how badly we have deteriorated during the pandemic, causing them to put us into Shady Pines immediately. We don’t want to go to Shady Pines. We don’t want people to think we are a management problem instead of just anti-social curmudgeons. We want to be left alone to play with matches and eat cat food.

We especially worried about making noises. We have become rather free about emitting any sounds that might desire emission, without even a nod to social niceties, since there are never any socially nice people around to hear them. We especially worried about the groaning noises we make when we are trying to get up off the sofa. They make us sound like delirious and dying elephants in the throes of existential angst.

I’m still not writing words, but sung words don’t count, so we decided we would sing from Broadway musicals/movies while they were here, and just incorporate our groans into the scores… Ohhhhhld man river… Ohhhhhhh what a beautiful morning….  Ohhhhhhhklahoma…. In Katie’s case, the nut doesn’t fall far from the tree, so she saw through this. She says that our singing was vastly more frightening than any physical ailments it might be covering.

But, you know, she didn’t look all that good, either. She had so much hair Helen took her to her own hairdresser to get it “trimmed.” Took two men and a boy to sweep it all up off the floor.

Technically, this pandemic isolation has been “only” 13 or 14 months, actually less than the bottom of the coon’s age scale. But it’s been much longer on the deterioration scale. That scale takes in more than months. It has fear and worry and concern and death and isolation and homelessness and joblessness and hunger and fatigue mixed in, too. That takes a much bigger whack at our stasis than just a year of Sundays does, even if all those were stay-at-home Sundays.

Despite our unsuccessful attempts while Katie and Joe were here, I still believe it’s a good idea to sing musicals as we come back into the light, into society. “Over the Rainbow” would be a good place to start…

John Robert McFarland