Nuevo Comienzo

Los Angeles, California

While I have no recollection of what that groundhog did last month, I am acutely aware of poking my own head out of the pandemic cave in which I've been living. It has been challenging, and not. Months ago I began meeting friends for lunch and the occasional movie. After a false start prior to Delta and Omicron surges, Joel and I did make it back onto several dance floors over the past two months. Travel is being discussed, Hollywood Bowl season is being perused, Dodgers Opening Day coming in hot.

Does it all feel normal? No. Does the recollection of the last two years feel surreal? Yes. Are we the same people who we were before Covid hobbled us? I don't think so. But life does go on, and so shall we.

I had a recent health episode which was slightly alarming. That, along with the death of my friend and contemporary, Pam, has made me look around at my community and realize that we are now in that place where age-related maladies are hitting us. As if it is not reminder enough that Covid vaccines are targeted for our age-group, other realizations poke at us. As celebrities pass away, I begin to notice their ages and how many are younger, even if slightly, than 70. I ponder if all generations, or just us boomers, come to grips with the stark realization that we can't stay young forever. Immature, yes. Young? Not so much.

And yet, last night at our local salsa club, amazingly back after its pandemic hiatus, I scanned the dance floor when we weren't dancing. It was full of dancers at all levels of competence and talent, but all dancing with the joy of the music and the movement. I felt a spark of real joy as I thought to myself: Que rico! But that thought was followed by the thought: This is a petrie dish!

While I am thrilled to dance and do my pilates and have friends to my home and to not wear a mask through it all; just this past week I encountered two women, my colorist and a salsera friend, who both were diagnosed with Covid after a routine test. Absolutely no symptoms whatsoever in either case. So I tested myself for the first time. Negative. And there was a tiny, little scintilla of disappointment. It somehow seems inevitable, and I think a small part of me just wants to get it over with. Even though it no longer quite feels like that Acme anvil hanging over my head every time I venture out.

Life after lockdown has suddenly become very busy. I had my first dinner party of the year, and am busy planning my Easter menu. Already summer plans are being made and travel plans for 2023 are being discussed. Life and time is moving on, and I feel there is a lot of making up for lost time to be accomplished. And yes, there will be surges and we will need to be cautious again. That Acme anvil is still around and might again hover even more dangerously. But for now, for 2022, it finally feels like a fresh start. A nuevo comienzo as we dance our way into spring and toward our warm summer evenings. Call me crazy, but I'm starting to feel just a little bit joyful and free. Que rico!