Traveling home in the midst of the pandemic was very eerie.
For one, I felt more anxiety than was necessary, worrying whether we would make it home. Only a few days earlier, we wondered whether we should even head home.
Getting on the plane to travel from Mexico to Canada was a relief. I was less sociable than I usually am, respecting the personal space of the people around me as we all learned a new reality – don’t infect those around you. Wipe down the spaces around you. Wash your hands meticulously. Use hand sanitizer.
Then, flying into Calgary was a very strange feeling. Mid-afternoon and there were hardly any cars on the freeways and interchanges. One of Canada’s biggest cities looked like a ghost town. The airport was relatively quiet, with flights coming home becoming more sparse.
Even the Tim Hortons was closed.
We felt so appreciative of the workers at the airport, the Westjet flight crews, and the Enterprise rental car workers who ensured we got home safe. We were so fortunate to have a neighbour who bought us groceries so our fridge was stocked when we got home.
And now we are home for 14 days, self-isolating to protect those around us. But we have power, heat, food, the Internet. We have jigsaw puzzles and crossword puzzles and books. We have each other, and while sometimes that may seem trying, we are not alone like many others.
And we have enough toilet paper. We did not stockpile. We will get through this.
Writing is one way that I work through my thoughts and feelings. I am writing my own reflections as a way to process what’s happening at this crazy time. It won’t be perfect, but it will help me. You can decide whether or not to read them. If you do, I hope you feel free to comment with your own reflections. Be safe.
I agree, Ardith, that writing is therapeutic. It will be interesting to look back on these reflections.
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Thank you for reading!