Taking a look at place
One
of the things that’s struck me most about living in the corona virus spread is the
importance of where you are- your home, your location. You’d better like it because no matter how
restless you get or how low flight prices drop, you may be stuck there for awhile.
There
are positives to being ‘at home’, You
know how to manage with grocery shopping and medical care if you need it. I have a friend in her 80’s who just last
week got on a plane to go alone to Florida.
There, she’ll need to figure out the basics of functioning in a suburban
sprawl with no car. This just may not be the best time for moving.
My
partner in Barcelona has a ticket to come to Buffalo at the end of March and he’s
trying to change that trip. He doesn’t
want to get sick in a place with a complicated health care system nor does he
want to get stuck in a quarantine. As he
put it, he’d rather stay at home.
That
brings me to a fear I have that I can trace back many years to my mother. She left her home in Latgale in the middle
of the night with bombs falling thinking she’d return in a week. That never happened nor did she ever see her
father or brother again. That was her
exile after the Second World War.
I
want to return to my beloved Spain. I
want to walk by the sea, eat a fabulous meal, and drink a good strong red wine
with friends. I hope I can and that it
will be soon.
