Two years ago this week, my firm went fully remote.  We had been back and forth frantically over the prior two weeks about how to be safe in our office, but by March 13, we were done.  We were ahead of the city by a few days.

 I remember driving down to Maryland to pick up my son from school.  It was just about to be spring break for his sophomore year and the school told the students to take home a few extra things in case spring break was extended a few weeks. Instead, we packed the car to the top of the windows – better safe.

I remember going out for dinner in College Park that night.  We had to eat.  The restaurant was empty.  The server wore a mask.  We were nervous touching the salt and pepper shakers.

At the same time, it became crystal clear that we needed my daughter to come home from Ann Arbor.  Flights weren’t easy to come by and were exorbitantly expensive.  But the thought of her locking down in a city without anyone around was too much for me.  So, within a few days she was home too.  Had we waited even a few days, we would not have been successful in that mission.

I look back now and think how naive we all were thinking that this was going to last a few weeks.  Was that realistic at the time or just self preservation?   My dining room table quickly because my office while both of my children worked behind closed doors in their rooms.   Oh, and Bill went to work.  His business was considered essential and so we held our breath every day.

Remember food shopping? We never turned to grocery delivery; it just didn’t work for us.  Instead, Saturdays, and only on Saturdays, I ventured to a supermarket, eventually with mask, gloves, hand sanitizer and wipes – when I could find them.  Feeding four on one trip to the store wasn’t easy, in fact, wasn’t even possible at the time.  And so for weeks. we had a system.  I would shop and then return home with bags, bring them into the garage where I was met with the unloading and washing brigade.  They would separate, and wipe down all the groceries, leaving them staged in the garage for a day or two until they were safe to bring inside.

Sometimes I feel as if we should all write a book about our experiences over the past two years.  Our children and grandchildren will know only that their seniors lived through a pandemic.  Unless we describe it in its full detail, it sounds surreal, impossible.  But for anyone reading my blog today, you know that it turned out to be not only very real but possible. 

And yet, with all of that uncertainty and challenge, I feel so blessed, almost guilty, that my family remained and still remains healthy.   Yes, we’ve been careful but I’m sure we’ve also been lucky.

Today I am optimistic about the future – but I don’t plan to ever forget.