June 22, 2021: First Times Since -

We held a tiny choir rehearsal on Sunday, the first one since March, 2020. We were all masked, and only nine people total, a small fraction of the regular choir, widely spaced in the otherwise empty cathedral. Somehow, because we spent a few minutes warming up, it still felt like a real rehearsal.

In addition to some Handel and Purcell and other things, we sang an anthem we’ve sung before, Parry’s “I Was Glad,” and I WAS glad. The plan is that we will sing it in September, when we hope to be back together, and if that comes to pass, I am certain we will all be quite glad.

(Here's a YouTube video of "I Was Glad." You can find lots of other renditions, featuring Queen Elizabeth at her jubilee, or Kate Middleton in her wedding procession. I like this version because, as is customary when it's sung by an American choir, the "Vivat!" section is cut (Long live the Queen!), so it's not too terribly long. But mainly I like it because the choir takes forever to file into place, giving me some choreographic excitement. 

Aiming for a double first-time-since, I then headed over to Reed and walked the canyon. As part of their safety protocol, Reed closed the entire campus a while back, but it’s open again now. Commencement was a few weeks ago, and it’s very, very quiet, the canyon nearly silent but for the wind in the treetops.

I saw six humans (one runner, one couple, one dad with two little girls) in the hours I was there. (The runner lapped me, so I saw him twice. “On your left. Again,” he said, just in case I didn’t realize I’d been lapped.) Also, delightfully, I spotted dragonflies, damselflies, swallowtail butterflies, mallards, wood ducks, crows, squirrels, berries of all kinds, flowers of all kinds, various mushrooms, and several maybe-sightings: a turtle, a bittern, and perhaps an owl. We’ll never know.   

Last week, we went to visit my 96-year-old mother in law, my first time since, though Rick saw her earlier this spring (he was ahead of me, vaccination-wise). She lives alone, and likes it. (“I like myself.”) She was well provided for, during the pandemic, by her daughter and granddaughter – groceries on the doorstep, doctor’s visits as needed - and in the Grand Scheme of Things, all is pretty darned good, for a 96-year-old, but sometimes I project my own extroversion onto her, and wish she had more human contact.

Foolishly, arguing the benefits of other people, I said, “You know, people who have friends live longer than people who don’t.”

She said, mildly but firmly, “I’m pretty old.”

Good point. We laughed for a long time.