Month: August 2021

I woke up this morning with so many things preying on my mind. Like everyone I had hoped to be returning to a kind of normalcy after a year of Covid-19. For a few fabulous weeks it really felt as though the worst of the problems of the last months were behind us. It’s been disappointing to see a rise in Covid-19 cases across the country and in multiple parts of the world, but I suppose it was inevitable. We are all weary of the challenges and sacrifices and anxieties associated with the virus. We just want it to go away, but surely know that it doesn’t care what we think. It is determined to stay alive and well in the world. Our job is to outsmart it if possible.

I always knew that viruses have the ability to mutate to stay strong. I guess I just hoped that this one would not realize that it had that power. Wishful thinking has never been my strongest suit, but old habits die hard even though experience has taught me to know better. I suppose that what we humans have to do is be even more adaptable than the virus. Doing that is complicated by our superior ability to think. We don’t just automatically shift to one way of surviving like the more ignorant virus. We have to ponder our moves, and in the process we end up all over the place, challenging one another as to who is doing the right thing. So about half of us are vaccinated and willing to wear masks and half want nothing to do with the jab or coverings over the mouths. Our very human natures are exhibiting behaviors that have existed for centuries and caused all kinds of chaos in the process. It has only been when we came together in a spirit of cooperation that truly great things have occurred.

I am trying to use logic rather than emotion. I figure that all of those doctors who are vaccinating themselves and their family members would not be involved in a hoax or some devious desire to harm us all. If taking the vaccine and wearing masks is good enough for them, then it is good enough for me. I hear many reasons why others prefer to avoid the shots. Some worry about long term negative effects of which we are not yet aware. Others have medical conditions that preclude receiving the vaccines. There are those who eschew vaccines of every kind for religious reasons. Then I hear of those who simply believe that the Covid-19 virus is a hoax that has been politically motivated. Some even say that they do not want the vaccine because it will make Democrats look good. 

I can accept the more personal and legitimate reasons like medical conditions, religious reasons, and even some wariness of the inoculation. What angers me are people who somehow think that some dark force is out to ruin us as a nation by inventing a medical emergency that is not real. I cannot understand how they can justify their beliefs when it would mean that the entire world is in on the conspiracy including virtually every doctor and nurse who has treated Covid patients. It is a bizarre theory that is hurting our effort to stop the virus in its tracks. 

As for those who speak of their freedom of choice, I would submit that at the very least they should be willing to wear masks when in public for the sake of precaution. We stop at a red light even when nobody is coming in any direction. We wear our seatbelts when the roadway appears to be empty. We get medical checkups when we feel perfectly healthy. We participate in many community activities for the betterment of society, even when we may not want to do so. How many children would actually choose to go to school if we did not require them to do so? It makes sense that sometimes the common welfare demands us to forego our own wishes and bend just a bit to make sure that most of us are safe.

I am fully vaccinated. My reaction to the jab was minimal. I felt achy and a bit off for one day after my second dose. Since then I have not had a single negative symptom. I carry masks with me wherever I go, and while I totally hate the discomfort of wearing them, I do so lest I might be spreading the virus without symptoms. I don’t want to make somebody sick, especially anyone who has made the choice not to vaccinate. Do I deserve a medal for doing what I do? The answer is a firm, “No!” Doing what I believe to be proper is simply a matter of attempting to be kind. My mask reassures people that I am thinking of them.

The physics of wearing a mask is interesting. My mask protects others but does not protect me. My mask keeps my germs contained. When someone else wears a mask, they help to make sure that their germs do not get on me. When we both wear masks the environment is safer for both of us. It makes me very happy when I am in the presence of people decked out in their face coverings. It shows me that they care about me and the people around me. What could be more wonderful than that?

I would love to see everyone vaccinated, but know that such a thing may never happen. I actually worry a great deal about those who refuse because I have already seen individuals forego the opportunity to get the immunity who contracted the virus and died. It makes me anxious that so many are taking such great risks. 

I also understand that those who cannot take the vaccine or those who have auto-immune diseases are living in a hellish kind of limbo until we can get the virus under better control. They  are weary of being shut away because so many are unwilling to help them even in the simplest of ways like wearing a mask or being honest when they contract Covid-19. Everyone is entitled to privacy, but sometimes it is dangerous to keep vital information to ourselves. 

I am still a cockeyed optimist. I think that we can increase the number of willing participants in the vaccination movement. I’d be happy to talk with anyone who has concerns. I’d like to think that more and more people will lovingly don their masks even if they don’t even think they work. We have the ability to cooperate and fool the virus, but we have to be a united team to do that. As long as there are places for Covid-19 to hide, it will keep bringing suffering and death to us. Let’s get smart. Let’s love a little. Let’s do this now!

I vividly recall the first time that I rode along Trail Ridge Road. My husband Mike had business in Denver and asked me to come with him. I was enrolled in a course at the University of Houston and had a great deal of studying to do, but realized that I would be able to complete my reading assignments and write my paper while Mike was taking care of his own work. Our moms agreed to watch our two little girls and we were soon flying away on an unexpected vacation. 

I spent most of the first day inside our hotel room enjoying room service and quiet as I dutifully completed assignments for the course I was taking. By mid afternoon I had accomplished more than I would have if I had stayed at home. Mike burst into the room with a big grin and announced that he too had finished his work for the day and told me to get ready to go to Rocky Mountain National Park. We excitedly dressed for the outing and were soon barreling down the road toward the mountains. 

If was late spring, almost summer, and we were dressed more appropriately for the warm days of Houston, Texas in May. We didn’t really think about the difference in temperatures on a mountain, nor even that the roads there might be closed because of snow. Luckily Trail Ridge Road had just reopened a couple of days before, so we would be able to traverse its length without trouble. Nonetheless what had been a sunny day in Denver had change to an overcast and somewhat foggy and bitterly cold environment inside the park. 

I remember a point along our journey to the top of Trail Ridge Road when the scenes became so breathtaking that I actually found myself crying tears of emotional joy at the very thought that anything could be so beautiful. I oohed and awed over and over again as we passed vistas unlike anything I had ever before seen. Because of the dreary weather and the time of day it seemed as though we were the only two people on the mountain, rarely passing another human being. I fell madly in love with the place and felt a spiritual connection with the mountains that would remain with me for the rest of my days. 

I’ve been back to repeat that journey so many times that I have lost count. When I am not there I long to be so. I’ve hiked along the trails and walked leisurely along the periphery. These days my age and my bad knees keep me mostly riding in my car, but no matter how I get there, I love those mountains like no other place on this earth. The connection I feel with them is visceral, almost haunting. There are spots that bring me to tears every single time. I feel the glory of our planet there and somehow I hear the voices of all the people who have walked there. I’ve seen those mountains in the changing seasons, the different times of day, under varying weather conditions. Each iteration is magnificent and a soothing force on my heart. 

The final destination of our recent vacation was Rocky Mountain National Park. We retraced our steps over the hallowed ground that we had traveled so many times. It was not as quiet as our first encounter because July is high tourist season, but because of the pandemic we had to have a reservation to enter the park. There were fewer cars moving along the roads, and so it felt as though nature had somewhat reclaimed its dominion over the place. I actually enjoyed it even more than I had in recent years. 

We had traveled to the park last fall and wanted to see what the fires that came after our visit had done to the area near Grand Lake where we had delighted in the beauty of groves of multicolored aspen trees. Sadly we found that huge swaths of land had burned. Still there was great hope in the tiny patches of green that were sprouting from the desolation. It will be years before the area returns to its former glory, but the restoration process has begun. The mountains will heal just as they have always done. I plan to return to watch as the process unfolds.

We spent all of our time in Rocky Mountain National Park. It was why we had detoured before returning home, and what we had come to see. I felt refreshed and ready to return to the realities and challenges of the world after seeing my favorite sights one more time. I suspect that if I am lucky I will return many more times before my traveling days are done. 

I suppose that everyone has a favorite place. Some people like the ocean. Others enjoy exciting cities or recreations. I would be incredibly content to spend all of my vacations in those mountains. All I would really need is a porch and a chair and a good view of the peaks along with an occasional drive along Trail Ridge Road. The steadfastness of the mountains is enough for me. It’s been said that the Rocky Mountains are “the marrow’ of the world. That is what they are for me, the heart of what soothes my soul. They are a place that calls to me over and over again, and each time I hear that cadence in my mind, I know that I must go.