Smiling Behind the Mask

I don’t know about you, but right now I’m struggling to figure out where the last four months have gone.

I’m in Colorado, in the United States. Our country started shutting down in mid-March, and in the first few weeks everyone hunkered down in their homes, knowing their freezers were overflowing with bulk meats from Costco.

We were prepared to stay in for a few weeks and have life be a little different for a while. 

We thought it would pass in a month – maybe two, at most. We thought we’d flatten the curve and come out of it and be on the other side by summer.

Oh, how little we knew.

Now it’s August, and we’re staring down the start of the school year, and the pandemic is still raging in many parts of our country. Our numbers look pretty decent in Colorado, so I’m not as scared to leave the house as I used to be – but I’m still staying home as much as I possibly can. 

And hell, there’s nowhere to go anyway, because pretty much everything is canceled or being held online. 

For the introverted part of me, this is pure bliss. I love my home, and my teenage son, and hanging out with my dog, and curling up with a good book. So the lack of pressure to go out and socialize and be a contributing member of society in any meaningful way is kind of glorious. 

But in other ways, it feels…strange. Strange to be alone for so long. Strange not to be able to meet friends for coffee. Strange that I haven’t hugged anyone except my kid for over four months.

I’ve noticed that time is both dragging and flying by – even more so than in a normal year. 

Isolation and boredom do weird things to one’s mind. Not having travel plans, holidays, concerts, or special events to look forward to makes every day blend into the next one.

The other day, I wrote “February 14, 2020” on a check I was writing, and I paused for a second before I realized it still kinda feels like February INSIDE MY HEAD because seriously, where have the last four months gone?

It’s no wonder no one knows what day it is anymore.

But I digress.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to be sharing some of my stories from my own personal corner of the pandemic, because I realize that writing about things makes them feel less strange to me. And boy, do they feel pretty weird right now. So stay tuned for further thoughts and stories from me. 

But in the meantime, here are three quick silver linings of COVID-19 that I’ve noticed recently:

Silver lining #1: Family Zoom calls.

Every Saturday since lockdowns began, I’ve hosted group video calls with my family. My parents and my sister are scattered out in different parts of the country, so these video calls keep us connected and let us share in the weirdness of what we’re experiencing.

We end up talking a lot about the pandemic, and what the outbreak numbers look like in Colorado, Pennsylvania, and Florida.

We talk about bad home haircuts and good movies we’ve seen and whether or not a sore throat might actually be COVID.

Sometimes my 20-year-old nephew jumps on the calls with us, and sometimes my 17-year-old son joins us, too. It’s a good way for the grandparents to stay connected with the kids – and it’s pretty great for my cranky soul, too. I feel more connected to my family than ever before, and that’s a wonderful thing.

Silver lining #2: Smiling with our eyes.

This morning at the grocery store, there was a woman in the produce section who was absolutely loading up on cucumbers. I don’t know if she was making pickles, or what, but she must’ve put 25 cucumbers into produce bags before all was said and done.

The red peppers that I wanted were right next to the cukes, so I stood nearby waiting for her to finish so I wouldn’t make her feel uncomfortable by getting in her space. (Side note: That’s a pet peeve of mine, so I’m super careful to give others extra room – stay six feet back, people!)

I wasn’t in a hurry, but as she finished up, she noticed me standing there waiting and momentarily looked sheepish and apologetic. I gave her my biggest smile, intending to convey both, “I’m not in a hurry – take your time!” and “That is an impressive amount of pickles!” and she smiled back.

We were both wearing masks during this interaction, and we didn’t actually speak a word to each other – but we were able to read our mutual expressions of friendliness even though we couldn’t see each other’s smiles.

Rediscovering the lost art of reading expressions in people’s eyes is a marvelous side effect of the pandemic. My new goal every day is to consistently smile so big that the mask doesn’t hide my joy.

Silver lining #3: Long, long walks with the dog.

I have a lot of solo time on my hands right now.

I’m still staying inside a lot, and my son isn’t home much because he works two jobs and well, is a teenager.

There are only so many Netflix shows a girl can watch before going completely bonkers, and sometimes it just feels like there are ACRES of time to fill before bedtime. So lately, I’ve taken to exploring my small town neighborhood on long walks with my dog at dusk, after the heat of the day has passed.

I find it calming on my somewhat frayed nerves these days. These nightly treks are a habit I plan to keep when things go back to “normal” – or whatever “new normal” we eventually settle into.

How about you? Have you noticed any silver linings of living through this pandemic? Share your small wins in the comments below.