Post Vaccine Reentry (?)

Early this morning one of my beloved cousins phoned. Such a happy way to begin a day—right up until he posed the most difficult question I’ve been asked in a year.

Frankly, the last year rendered nary a question with a tough choice since all questions required no brain power: The answer was no. No we’re not getting together with anyone. No we’re not getting haircuts in salons. No we’re not skipping our masks, ever. No we’re not considering attending book club in person. No we’re not grocery shopping in the store since we’re ordering online and picking up in the parking lot. No we’re not sitting indoors with children and grands for Thanksgiving, Christmas or any other whatevers. No we’re not (fill in the blank). No. No. NO!

But my cousin delivered a question for which I don’t want the answer to be no. (I don’t think.) George and I are now both two vaccines in, although not yet past that prescribed “two weeks past.” But … this morning’s question from my cousin involves long-distance travel.

Travel?! Holy schmoly!

Will we come if he books our annual family reunion reservation which was of course canceled last year? As was every other delightful thing we’d booked for our lives.

My cousin’s question comes with a financial commitment. A few years ago the cousins began a lovely new tradition of each chipping in to rent a large house for a few days so as to spend every last non-sleeping minute together. This luxury replaced the annual grind over which hotel/motel to select that could: accommodate everyone’s budget; offered large enough “food rooms” for us to drag our caches into and engage in a proper snacky cocktail hour; satisfy personal tastes regarding extra space vs desired room configurations…

After that first  experimental year with our own community kitchen for cooking and game playing—no elevator waits, loud neighbors, bad air conditioners--we were hooked. We even rented a place with a large enough living room to comfortably seat us all for a little TV watching, which happened when we needed a break from talking. Talking, talking, talking. So much to say when there’s a lifetime of shared history, now so many age-related health conversations (sigh), grand-kiddos’ photos and hijinks over which to oogle and laugh and be horrified. (Kids today!)

That is after we first slog through lengthy opening conversations about how to use the houses’s unfamiliar wi-fi and remotes, which is its own ongoing revelation into the Aging Adventure. At least we cousins are doing it together. YAY COUSINS!

So, cousin called and asked. And I … sputtered. He and his wife are a couple weeks ahead of us with vaccines so they’ve already experienced some post-vaccine break-in time. First a meal at an outdoor patio. Then inside. Then a short trip to visit with other vaccinated relatives. You get the picture. Let’s call it Post Vaxx Reentry (PVR).

PVR requires a process. Increments. Ones that hopefully build toward a YES to travel. Choices that lead to a plethora of happy Yes Yes YES!

I hate these chicken-s^*# inner dialogue shenanigans I play with myself since COVID-19 struck. Well, I know several fully vaccinated people who have gone out to dinner and none of them are dead. Yet. Or sick. Yet. And they haven't totally proven the new strains are going to bypass the vaccines. Yet.

Even though I trust the science, in the beginning the science itself demonstrated a teensy yet prudent hesitancy to conclude what We Vaccinated could safely do. Although they’ve finally landed the verbal plane with “You can visit with other vaccinated people without masks,” there always seems to be a small caveat that appears in my brain in capital letters: UNLESS WE CHANGE OUR MINDS AS WE LEARN MORE.

Make no mistake: I love my cousins and am more than ready to swirl in the energy of their laughter, love and realness. And the food. OH THE FOOD! (Which involves eating out, which we haven’t done yet. Are we ready for that? Shut UP overactive brain!) I’m also desirous to visit friends in Illinois on our way from Minnesota to Indiana, where the reunion takes place. We always drive and always spend a couple/few nights in our old neighborhood in a series of whirlwind visiting/talking events with old-time friends we accrued over 47 years of marriage before we moved to MN. This past year several of them have experienced heart issues, cancer and other traumas. We want to see the bright light of their faces while we’re all still here on planet earth.

A barrage of “Are you fully vaccinated yet?” questions has begun. By reunion time (perhaps June) we shall all be, which is GRAND news! So … what’s the hesitancy to Just Say YES?

ME: Don’t carelessly erase the safety of an entire year of hiding out at home!

ME: SHUT UP OVERACTIVE BRAIN and just jump in! If things go haywire after reservations are made, we can always bow out and eat the money. After all, surely we’ve saved lots of money the last year with all those NO responses. Right?

Bwa-hahahahaha!

The packages are still arriving. Items received like dozens of masks (there's always one better than the one I just received), organic flour since my oven is now always on, more KitchenAid attachments, cute new shoes I have nowhere to wear...  My first ever Le Creuset pan is in transit, as is my purple hair dye. (Created for brown hair and mine is gray but it was a Deals and Steals on GMA [found poem] so what could possibly go wrong?!) I’m also shopping for my first ever good 8” chef’s knife. These purchases happen after you watch a year of cooking shows and have time and a cell phone on your hands—and have avoided the salons. (And apparently imagine you’re 22 and magically hip rather than 75 years old and bored, what with the purple.)

Here’s what I’m imaging at the moment: I’m going to say YES! YES, YES, YES to the reunion! And I’m going to cook something fabulous to take in my new pan after cutting the ingredients with my new chef’s knife. And I’m going to pack my QVC-ordered wig—just in case the purple hair experiment runs amok.

Yes, we’ll have so much to talk, talk, TALK about when we all get together! Won’t we?

Won’t we?