The covid-19 pandemic ended for me June 7th, 2021 around 4PM. This was two weeks after my second Moderna shot, which was about a month after the first, and that was about a month after I got the date for the first. I began the pandemic noting how quiet everything was in the neighborhood and the nearby highways, before the politicization was in full swing, while most people were taking it seriously. The skies were so clear of air traffic I could spot several satellites and one meteorite without even trying.
Me, I, myself. The pandemic still rages on here in the US and around the world. It’s easy to forget this without the bonus anxiety of infection as grown men fly by half naked in the back of a truck hooting and hollering. No masks. It’s easy to forget others are suffering the consequences of a failure of collective action as I accept a package without worrying about the maskless driver.
I’m safe as I sit here typing away in a home where everyone is on the same page regarding vaccines, close enough on politics, and took necessary precautions long enough to allow us to let our guard down a little after a year of worrying about each trip to the store, every walk in wind and sunshine in a deep anti-vaxx stronghold.