People – or – Who is That Masked Person?

Everyday faces of people who are on the front lines of the pandemic grace our news feeds. A huge thank you to all of those folks.

Today I want to feature faces of people who you will likely not see on the news. People who I meet as I’m walking down the aisle at Publix or in the parking lot at Walgreens. People who are part of my family or my church.

There is more to each of these people than meets the eye. And I’m not just talking about their nose and mouth. They all have a story. They all have people they love. They all are pretty tired of life’s adjustments over the last couple of months.

These people include a bride-to-be at her virtual bridal shower, the young man taking my order at Chic-fil-a, the young woman whose mom in Nevada made a mask for her and sent it to help keep her safe, newly weds, oldly weds, and the fun lady whom I met at the bakery in Publix. There’s my granddaughter, and a dad and his daughter. There are close friends of mine. I even threw in the Mayor of Orlando, mainly because I like the way Orange County Sheriff John Mina is looking at him. I think he’s wondering why the mayor didn’t bring masks for everyone.

To show you these beautiful faces, I asked several people, some of whom I do not know, to allow me to take and post their picture. Every one of them said yes. Isn’t that fun? With a six-foot social distancing mandate, it’s harder than ever to chat with people, but I’m finding that a lot of folks are eager for a kind word or even to have their picture taken. Especially since my goal was to encourage people to look behind the mask (figuratively, of course). Make eye contact. Smile and say hello. I know – I’m in the South, but I’m pretty sure it will work wherever you find yourself.

Meanwhile, we continue to pray for God’s healing, mercy, and comfort. And we remember to smile with our eyes until we can stop wearing these crazy masks.

 

People.

People who are people.

They’re the peopliest people in the world.

(That’s my version of People, the song made famous by Barbra Streisand. I guess I can’t copyright that.)

 

A Whole Lot of Firsts

You already know that I’m not good with numbers, so I have no idea how many days we’ve been doing this COVID-19 thing. What I do know is – it’s more than any of us would like it to be.

I am sitting in amazement, though, at how God has prepared us for times such as these. For instance, just a few years ago grocery delivery was for the elite. Now it’s for everybody. (Except me. I can’t bring myself to do that yet. I like the grocery store. I like choosing my own produce. I may have to change my ways in the future, but not yet.)

Friday of last week I donned my mask and gloves and went to Publix. That was before it was advised that everyone wear masks in public, so it seems I was a little ahead of the times for a change. About a third of us were dressed the same. How embarrassing! Seriously, I was impressed at how kind and considerate everyone was. Publix has for its motto – Where Shopping is a Pleasure. It was a pleasure, but it was weird.

I color coded my hand-written grocery list so that I would not have to make return trips to an aisle I had already gone down. I was greeted by signs in the dairy department – one item of each kind per customer. I picked up a gallon of milk for my neighbor and a half-gallon for us. The Publix people were happy to let me do that after I explained why.

I opted out of help to my car (if you don’t have a Publix, you wouldn’t know that helping you to your car and loading groceries for you is part of their service, with no tipping their policy). When I peeled those gloves off of my sweaty hands, I thought about all of the health care people and other services where folks have to wear gloves all the time. I’m thankful for them all. (I was also thankful that I keep a small towel in my car so I could dry my hands and not have them slipping all over the steering wheel.)

On returning home, I set up a table in the garage and wiped down everything before it was allowed in the house. Some things I left in the garage for later. Honestly, it was simpler grocery shopping with toddlers, but I didn’t mind taking the extra precautions.

One reason for the extra precautions is that my mom lives with us. Bob and I are getting up there, but she is officially “up there.” (Again, full disclosure, I probably would go the extra mile of caution anyway; but having Mom with us helps me not get made fun of by my husband.)

Speaking of Mom. She has witnessed many things firsthand in her lifetime.  She was born in 1928 (she’s 92). Some of the firsts are, in no particular order:

  • Air-conditioned houses and cars
  • Televisions in homes and then color television
  • WW II
  • Microwave ovens
  • Cell phones
  • The internet
  • Man walking on the moon
  • Man-made satellites and a space station
  • Personal computers
  • Vinyl records, 4 track cassettes, 8 track cassettes, cassette tapes, CDs, downloading music
  • VCRs, Betamax, DVDs, Bluerays, streaming of movies and the like
  • Cameras have gone from little brownie box cameras to cameras on our phones
  • Fluoroscent light bulbs, LED bulbs, Smart bulbs
  • Google, Youtube, Facebook, Amazon (including the Echo Alexa that sits in her room, which she uses to sing along with her favorite hymns)
  • Hawaii and Alaska become states
  • And now a pandemic

Ten years before she was born, there was the 1918 Influenza Pandemic. Mom has been through a lot – even polio as a kid and waiting to see if her brother who was a POW in Germany in WW II would return home (he did). And now she’s going through social distancing during the current pandemic.

It’s a privilege for me to witness her adapting and marveling at the technology which I can almost take for granted. Here’s a few shots of her doing just that:

 

Mom watching my sister and her son sing during their on-line church service in Georgia

 

 

Mom attending the Zoom meeting of her Tuesday morning Bible study

In a day when in a sense we are all shut-ins, my 92-year-old mom lives a life of thankfulness for the things she has and the things God set in place ahead of time for such a time as this. God bless you all and keep on looking up!

I’m Not Getting Old – I’m  Just Getting More Creative in Linking Two Vastly Unrelated Subjects

When my granddaughter called to ask me what I remembered about President Kennedy’s assassination for a school assignment she was working on, it triggered something in me.  You may think it was the memories of the events of that day.  Of course, that happened; but what it really triggered was a cold, harsh reality.  I’m getting old.  Middle-schoolers go to people my age to find out about the past.  I’m somebody’s homework.

I explained to Mia that when JFK was shot I was seven years old – a second-grader.  The full impact was lost on me much like the reason why we had atomic bomb drills where we would crouch under our desks while the air raid siren blared.  On that day, though, I remember our teacher crying as she sent us home from school early.  I remember my parents being upset.  I remember being sad for Caroline and John-John; he was such a cute little boy.  It was strange to think that the president had a regular life as a husband and father.

 

IMG_4828The weirdest thing I recall as standing out in my mind was the newspaper.  The Evening Star had the words EXTRA, EXTRA across the top banner.  This was odd and unusual enough to me that I saved the paper and have it to this day.  Somewhere in the mind of that second grader was the realization that this was important and of lasting impact – a piece of history recorded for posterity.

But, this is supposed to be a blog about Life on the Lighter Side, so with that in mind, I’ll let you know that my being my granddaughter’s homework was not the only thing that has reminded me that I’m getting older.  As background, you should know that I am a huge Seinfeld fan.  My son, Scott, sent me a notice that Larry Thomas, aka the Soup Nazi of Seinfeld fame, was going to be dispensing soup in a Publix in Kissimmee, which is clear across town.  I was excited about going until I found out the time slot involved a return home during rush hour.  Sadly, I’ll never know the intense pleasure of having my bowl filled with mulligatawny by a stern-faced soup ladler; and I’ll never know if bread was included or not.

That may not seem like a big deal to you, but just a few years ago I stalked Paul McCartney, I mean had lunch with a friend while trying to get a glimpse of him at his hotel where he was staying across town.  I also have driven across the state to hear my favorite author, Alexander McCall Smith, give a lecture.  So it broke my heart a little to know that I wouldn’t brave I-4 traffic in order to see a Seinfeld character in action.

Now that I think about it, it’s all about how you look at life.  Maybe I’m not getting old.  Maybe I’m simply having a season of personal growth.  You know, counting the cost and realizing the value of my own time.  Either way, it adds up to, “No soup for me!”  Ah, but I can always catch Seinfeld in re-runs and ladle my own bowl of soup.  Plus, there’s next to no traffic in my kitchen.  Sounds like a perfect plan.

No Such Thing as a Free Prescription

My daughter Dena is one of those crazy (in a good way) young moms who isn’t afraid of anything.  Last week she and I were chatting on the phone.  As we were winding up our conversation she said, “I have to go.  I’m heading to the doctor in an hour.”

When I asked her why, she said she was sick and running a fever.  I offered to come and get the three older kids so she would only have the baby with her, but she said the nurse said to bring them, that she’d be in and out quickly.  I offered again, but like I said, my daughter’s crazy brave.  On hindsight, I should have rushed over and taken them anyway – the fever probably worked against her decision-making process.

Things went fairly well in the doctor’s office, except for the part where she was in the examination room and the nurse informed her that her daughter looked out the window and saw they had left the van door open.  That’s not exactly what you want to hear while you are donning a paper outfit; but that was easily resolved with the key fob.

Next she headed to Publix where many antibiotics are free and decided to pick up a few things for dinner while she waited for her prescription (making the price of the free prescription now about $28.50).  This was the point where her launch window closed.  Conditions were no longer favorable for a safe trip.  The mission should have been scrubbed.  But she pressed on.

While they were waiting for the prescription, the melt down began.  During that time there were a couple of injuries and numerous complaints from the kids.  The freezer section left them frozen.  They were tired from their day, not to mention starving.  Thankfully, a good distraction was found next to the prescription window – the chair with the blood pressure monitor was just begging to be sat in.  One child tried playing in it and that looked so exciting to three-year-old Jett that he ran across the floor, tripped and slid head first into the hard chair.  As he’s screaming and the manager is approaching, Dena is still waiting for her drugs (at this point the more the merrier).

So with voices crying, “I’m hungry.”  “I’m cold.”  “I have a concussion,” she headed home with deli chicken and medicine, and of course the cold, hungry, and concussed children.  Just another day.  When she told me about it later, I was so tempted to say, “I’ll bet you were kicking yourself for not letting me come get them.”  But that wouldn’t have been kind.

I confess, I said it anyway, along with a thank you for the blog post.