Pen-demic

 I’ve been whispering to you  As to not disturb your streaming and clicking and daydreaming  But this year I decided to shout  The warm wind is here  The ice brilliance is here  The bird symphony is here  The lilac scent is here  Always been that way  Why have you dismissed these?  Like channels that don’t catch your fancy  At one time there wasn’t an unseen creature with a crown  That could turn the world upside down  But now, so much to observe and feel  Being apart from others, but closer  To our true selves  Scary to witness suffering, longing, fearing  Find the perfect scene with a grasp to heal  What is strangling our souls and keeping us engulfed  In the big hurt  Open the door, breathe, see, listen  Our world, always changing, is injected with  More hues, more sounds, more energy  And you are in the midst of perfection  Do I have your attention now? Linda Larim...

This evening’s newscast had another story about the latest developments in the battle against Covid and the citizens of the United States have become divided between the vaccinated and the unvaccinated. The disease of my childhood was infantile paralysis or as it is more commonly known, polio. All over the United States, the summer months were considered the most dangerous time of year when people were most likely to sicken with this devastating illness. The photographs of polio patients in an iron lung were frightening to all. The most famous person who suffered from the aftereffects of polio was the New York Governor, Franklin Roosevelt. The most well-known treatment for polio victims was the Sister Kinney method. One summer when I was in middle school was a particularly bad year for the disease. Among the many resulting restrictions was the summer closure of the public swimming pool where my family lived. My younger sister, Kathy, needed to have her tonsils removed, but the surgery ...

Nearly everyone who was around on September 11, 2001, has a picture in their mind that represents what they experienced the day of the terrorist attacks. It might be the firefighters raising the flag on the rubble of the World Trade Center, the image of the towers crumbling to the ground, or the faces of people running to escape the clouds of smoke and ash that blew through the streets of lower Manhattan when the towers fell. While I can bring up those images in my mind, the one that haunts me is the sight of a signboard on an exit from the New York State Thruway that said, “ALL ENTRANCES AND EXITS TO NEW YOUR CITY ARE CLOSED.” And behind the sign in the distance hung a huge plum of white smoke. At the time, I was working for the American Cancer Society in New York and New Jersey. I supported staff and volunteers in both states and happened to have two meetings I was asked to attend on September 11. For no particular reason that I can remember, I chose the meeting being held in Albany ...

The 2021 school year has arrived. Backpacks are packed.  First day of school outfits are chosen. Teacher assignments are received. The last thing on my checklist is to have the kids fill out their chalkboard for the first day of school. Obligingly, my son and daughter will stand in front of our home – backpacks on and hair fixed – and hold their respective chalkboards. Those boards are currently blank slates but soon they will be filled with each child’s age, teacher, and aspirations for what they want to be when they grow up. I’ve been anxiously awaiting their teacher assignments and over the past week, I’ve been asking them to think about what they want to be when they grow up. Last year they both said they wanted to be soccer players. To be exact, my daughter said she wanted to be the greatest soccer player EVER (she’s got some serious goals!). As I stare at the blank slates in preparation for the 2021 school year, I’m thrown back to last year. A time when we took their photos i...

  At times, it’s the little things I’ve “lost” during COVID, that seem to make a difference.     I never used to leave the house without makeup on, but if I’m wearing a mask, no one is going to see my  face, only my eyes and forehead, so makeup ends up being an eyebrow pencil and perhaps a touch of lipstick, in case I take off my mask to drink something.   My ears were pierced as a small child.  My mother used to say that little girls would “play” with their jewelry if they could see it, but since we couldn’t see our earrings, we didn’t play with them.  But after losing a few as I took my mask on and off  going into stores, getting back in my car, etc.  putting earrings on became something I don’t automatically do any more.   I miss the normalcy of hugs and handshakes.  Of going to lunch with friends and colleagues. I miss w andering through stores, not because I need something, but because I want to see what’s “new”.  I m...

Our hair is whiter, our skin more wrinkled   Our Children taller   Our aches and pains more pronounced   Many of us are slower and a bit heavier   Some we barely recognize   Others look exactly as they did before   Our numbers are thinned   We wonder if they are watching from home? Covid? Cancer or other diseases? Moved away? Or???   Holes left in the fabric of our lives and community   Threads  pulled,  edges frayed   Now we must rebuild and do our best to incorporate those left and those new to our community into the weave   Pulling some back with  threads of  love, compassion, empathy and sympathy   Others with support and encouragement   Celebrating the  things  we can   As  we all work together to   rebuild   All of us longing for the past to “Reset” to the “Before Time”   But knowing that we can’t go back   But must go forward   To Rebuild, Darn and Rew...