The first hug of covid!

 Friday evening Carri, a friend of ours (and my ministering sister for those of you fluent in LDS jargon), hosted a farewell party for a mutual friend. We met in her backyard and ate hot dogs and watermelon.

Carri walked over to greet me and gave me a big hug. It felt good but strange to have physical contact with someone outside my family.

Two days later, I saw Carri at church and told her that I was reminded of the children’s picture book, Polar Express. A young boy takes a mysterious train to the North Pole and meets Santa Claus. He is chosen to receive a gift and requests a silver bell from a reindeer’s harness. Santa smiles and an elf tosses a bell to him. Santa holds it high above his head and declares it “the first gift of Christmas!’

In the churchyard, I raised my hand high in the air and declared, “The first hug of covid!”

I’m finding it psychologically challenging to venture out into the public. Last night Jim and I went to another farewell party, held outdoors at Kimball Farms ice cream stand in Carlisle. We ordered our frozen delights and mingled and talked for over an hour and a half. As dusk fell, we returned to our car. Jim said, “That was nourishing.” Yes, indeed. Worth the anxiety.