Distilled Spirits

Ted. My sister, Cindy called me a couple of days ago. During our chat, she made the interesting remark that, in their long marriage, she had never felt closer to her husband. The pandemic had forced them to eliminate many of their activities, so she and Leo suddenly had the time to focus on what was most important.

In pondering that statement, I stumbled upon an analogy. Rotting fruit is the basis for wine, a beverage, which countless cultures have grown to love. In many parts of the world, that wine is boiled down to it’s essence; the “ghost” of the fruit in which it’s “spirit” remains. When one considers what has taken place around the world in 2020, many lives have been reduced to the bare essentials. How have each of us reacted to that? 

Winston Churchill famously observed that “A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty.” I typically skip any news headline containing the word “may.” What typically follows is a prognosticator’s worst-case scenario (which rarely occurs). Instead, I look for the small miracles that pop up around us every day. 

Friends, like Micki and Kay are successfully battling cancer. The election in the US has turned out to be pretty normal. Most folks we know who contracted the covid virus have survived unscathed. Many small businesses, like my sister’s are actually thriving. New technologies like Zoom have further shrunk our world. Curbside pickup has sprung up everywhere; a blessing for those of us who abhor shopping. 

OK, so we didn’t get to leave the US, but we were able to deepen our knowledge of our own country and it’s people (yeah, I’m talking about you Samuel Clemens!). Like my sister, I have grown closer, in many ways to friends and family. At its core, one’s life in this world is largely comprised of connections with individuals, like you. 

Our 8-year-old grandson, Caedmon was deeply disappointed two weeks ago when in-school classes were cancelled and he had to return to the loneliness of remote learning. What did that make possible? After a 10-day quarantine, we welcomed him, and our daughter and son-in-law back into our bubble. So last night, on Christmas Eve, we were able to enjoy a Polish tradition, the sharing of opłatki (Christmas wafers). 

Like everyone in the world, our lives have been reduced by this terrible pandemic. What remains, though is a richer, fuller appreciation of what is really important. May we all remember this as we venture forth into a new world in 2021.

Merry Christmas!

Judy sharing opłatki with Caedmon

Serendipity

Judy.  For the past few weeks, we've been extra careful about seeing friends and family. We're ordering groceries and Christmas gifts online (local, as much as possible), and only see family for brief times, outside, and masked. We typically only go out if it's to the doctor or to Ted's physical therapy. Dear friends who want to meet understand that we're hesitant since the Covid numbers are spiking again.

Today we ventured to Lawrenceville, about an hour away, for regular doctor checkups. Ted was in and out quickly, but for some reason I had to wait a half hour after he was finished before I was done. And I was ticked.

Now, when you go to Lawrenceville, you do not miss the Grand Polish Cafe and Bakery. The bread is fresh and delicious, and the pastries, mouth-watering. PLUS, it's THE place to find good kielbasa, pirogies, and other Polish marvels. So, while I sulked, Ted pulled into the parking lot at the Bakery and left me in Raymond while he went in to load up our pantry.

I was busy knitting  and finishing my coffee when a blue truck pulled up next to us and a masked guy stared right at me. Great. All I needed was some nut case fussing at me for not having a mask on in my own car. The guy rolled down his window and yells, "Come here often?" and pulls off his mask--and there is one of our dearest friends and favorite Polish Americans, Bob.

Bob was our son's Boy Scout leader for years. Stefan, by the way, is an Eagle, one of many Bob has mentored over the years. He's tough as nails, but I've watched him cry with pride as he saw his Scouts' accomplishments. There is no doubt in my mind that Stef is the man he is today in large part because Bob is part of the village that raised him. Bob saw past the earring, the oversized Scout uniform (that sagged quite nicely, thank you), and the long hair to the hard-working, caring boy Stef was, and has stood up for him several times when derisive comments were made. 

He's been a friend for years (I taught his oldest son, too). We argue politics, but can see past that to who we are. We used to get together, but with our nomadic lifestyle and his and his beautiful wife Margaret's move to a suburb far outside Atlanta, we've contented ourselves with occasional emails and texts.

So when I spotted his big grin, it was all I could do not to jump out of the truck and give him a hug. Seems he, too, had a doctor's appointment and couldn't leave town without Polish goods.

Together, unmasked, for the 5 seconds it took Ted to take the photo!

When Ted came out, we all decided to get a coffee--outside in thirty-degree weather to get caught up. Margaret works in a hospital, so the two of them also quarantine, and spent Thanksgiving outside with a few family members. 

We talked about how much we miss travel, and mentioned meeting up somewhere when the pandemic settles. All too soon, the cold and time caught up with us and we said goodbye.

Now, I don't want to get all mystical on y'all, but if the doctor hadn't been behind, we'd have been to the bakery and gone before Bob even got there. We'd have missed out on one of our favorite people. I hear stories about folks who miss an accident because of a delay, or the people who weren't at the Twin Towers on 9/11 because they missed their train. I don't want to say this is anything like that. But I'm definitely going to take a second breath when I get hung up somewhere next time. Who knows what surprise might be waiting?