Yesterday I was thinking about making memories in the pandemic and how challenging that feels. So much of making memories comes from experiences and interactions with others and going places. The pandemic has limited that, especially for people like me in the high-risk category.
A friend recently said to me that their world feels small in the pandemic, which really resonated with me, as I am feeling that deeply, too. I realized yesterday that the only in-person interactions I’ve had these past two months is with doctors, phlebotomists and radiology techs. I’ve only had two social distancing dates with two friends these entire five months.
Yesterday I saw my bestie for the first time since my birthday in April. Four months is a long time to not see your bestie. We met at the farmers’ market early in the morning, and before we left, I bought these beautiful bunch of sunflowers. The person who grew them told me how sunflowers turn toward sunlight instinctively. They are always looking for the light and turning toward it. Maybe that’s what I am trying to do in this pandemic, finding the light and turning to it.
This morning, I am thinking about the memories made yesterday. The custard-filled croissants my bestie brought us for breakfast. The embarrassing moment when we yelled across the parking lot to someone we thought was our friend, but wasn’t. The look of joy on my mom’s face when I surprised her with a favorite plant that I bought her at the farmers’ market. My face hurting so bad from laughing so hard on a family FaceTime call.
Memories are still being made. They just look a lot different during this season of our lives. They are marked by small moments that still have as much impact as those larger moments in pre-pandemic times. It may require being more mindful and more present to be able to recognize the memories being made—simple but soul-filling.