Until last week I hadn’t been in a parade since I was in Brownies, which was literally halfway through the last century. But thanks to Covic-19, I “paraded” twice in one week
First a group of girlfriends gathered to celebrate a 50th birthday without breaking those pesky social distancing rules. A few days later my church congregation decided to give drive-by praise and encouragement to three young members who are about to graduate from high school.
A novel virus calls for novel solutions.
We pack our quarantined selves into our portable isolation booths — formerly known as the family car — and let our imaginations run wild. We dress up the vehicle for the occasion — balloons, banners, signs and streamers. We crank up the sound system, play with the horn and flashing lights.
And most importantly we interact with friends we haven’t seen in far too long. Keeping a car length apart so we don’t crimp our bumpers, we exceed any social distance rules. But we wave, and shout, and applaud and laugh. Then we return to the safety of our homes, a little more able to face the uncertainty that lies ahead.
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