Time to Live

As we near month 24 of the Covid Sh*t Show, the only absolute truth is that we are all in this mess together. That doesn’t mean we agree on HOW to be in it – far from it – but at least all of humanity shares one common element at the moment – we are all living through the first global pandemic of our lifetimes.

During a recent post-work “therapy session” with colleagues, one described the series of impossible mishaps related to coordinating services between our public school district and the local university. The institutions have markedly different rules to play by and yet must be in sync with regard to coordinating programs. I (airheadedly) said, “Does anyone have a precedent for how these lines should be drawn?” To which my colleague pithily replied, “Oh, let me just call up my great, great, great grandfather who lived through the Spanish flu to see how they handled this.” We all got a hearty, pathetic, frazzled chuckle and continued to imbibe.

Friends have lost too many loved ones. Children have lost cherished rites of childhood. Parents have lost jobs, apartments, relationships, and on it goes. The naive hope that I held in the summer of 2020 that this would soon end once we all got a vaccine (even that part is now funny, not funny), is twice dashed thanks to two Greek words – Delta and Omicron.

Back in the glorious PC days (Pre-Covid)- February, 2020, my family booked our first ever trip to Europe. It was to be a beautiful thing- 2 weeks, 5 countries, planes, trains, and tour guides. The plan was to leave in May as a celebration of both my youngest’s high school graduation and her 18th birthday (on which day she was slated to arrive in Paris)! Dreamy, right?

Unless you’ve been living under a rock the size of Mt. Everest, you know how this turned out. No trip. No normal end of high school. No exploration of Europe. No croissants.

We made the best of it. Got a fancy fondant cat-shaped cake for the birthday girl. Sent her to college – albeit to remote classes. Got refunds for most of the trip. Saved the refund dollars; invested them in Amazon stocks (cha-ching). And waited.

On a hopeful day this past September, as Delta was waning, an airfare alert hit my inbox – Austin to Paris, round trip on American/British Airlines for less than the cost of a flight to New Orleans! I checked with the Mr., promptly booked 2 tix for January, and boxed up a Paris travel guide for Avery to surprise her with the whole shebang for Christmas.

And here we are, on the eve of the month when we booked that dream vacation.

Avery and I landed in Paris this morning. It’s only the two of us because life is pesky and responsible for Miles and Mallory. We are only visiting one country instead of five. We are here for 5 days not 14. We are wearing masks, sanitizing relentlessly, have had to take an insane number of Covid tests, made our way straight to a pharmacy to get an EU Health Pass to allow us to go about our business as proof of vaccines and boosters, but dammit WE ARE HERE.

It’s risky. We could get stuck here pending the necessary Covid tests required to leave. I have work waiting for me back home, and she starts the spring semester of her sophomore year the day after we return. Some venues are closed. Lines at the airport were long. And there are Covid testing tents adorning every corner in town (interesting approach, eh?).

A reasonable, responsible, PC (again, Pre-Covid) person might have understandably decided to cancel when Omicron took the stage. Nope. If Covid has taught us anything, it’s that life is short, we have no idea what’s around the corner, and the world is still a big, amazing place that needs to be experienced.

So, this week, it’s time to live.

Il est temps de vivre.