A child’s swing twists forlornly in the breeze beneath the behemoth maple tree that shades our home. It’s become a symbol of our sad coronavirus…
A child’s swing twists forlornly in the breeze beneath the behemoth maple tree that shades our home. It’s become a symbol of our sad coronavirus exile.
A year and a half ago, we moved from what we thought was our forever home steps from Cape Cod Bay to Rhode Island, just so we could be close to our two young grandsons. They used to be an hour and 10 minutes’ drive from us. Now we’re 12 minutes away.
Empty nesters now, we gladly and giddily bought a bigger house than we needed, complete with a fenced-in yard and the swing.
But my wife’s immune system was trashed by a nasty bout with Lyme disease, and we realized in the first days of the pandemic that we’d have to take extra precautions. Immunocompromised people and those aged 60 and older are among those most at risk of serious illness or death from COVID-19. It’s a harsh and unforgiving demographic.
Until very recently, the best we could do since early March was to pull down our masks and make funny faces at the boys from the sidewalk during furtive drive-bys past their home. Anything more and we risked infecting or becoming infected.
