The daily reality of this pandemic sometimes feels like it is passing through a camera obscura. We sit isolated, in darkened rooms, left to scan a two-dimensional projection of the lives we once knew, upside down. It’s evening, another evening at home like countless before and who knows how many more to come.
I miss hugs most of all. My grandchildren and children live in different towns and states so we have not seen them in person for a year. Our lives are sterile without the physical comfort of hugs. My girlfriend and I stand outside her house to talk 10 feet away from each other and tear up when I leave without touching, we always always hug and kiss greetings and partings. But you do give hope. Your books went to 2 children and recommendations to several other friends. Thank you
The isolation is horrible. The need to touch or hug someone is huge. All we can do is keep doing what we are doing. The vaccine is helping us. Spring is coming. Wear your mask as long as is necessary- the hugs are coming!
Your presence on my television was like that of a loving uncle when I was growing up. Please pass along my thanks to your children for “sharing” you with me for all those years.
My anxiety level is at its max. I know that because I had tears as I read this. I'm 78 and don't have time to feel lonely. And I'm not completely alone. I share my home with my daughter and son-in-law. I have animals. And I wasn't the most social person to begin with. I enjoyed my alone time in nature. But I'm missing my other children. I haven't seen them for more than a year. I miss my friends. I want my life back! I want to hug people. I want to dance. I want something as simple as watching Yuzuru Hanyu skate before a live audience. I want to get over being angry at how this country's leadership allowed this pandemic to kill so many of us including my sister.
I can feel what you are. I'm getting confused at times with whether it is anxiety or constant alertness to all that is no longer within reach of my fingers or control through my voice. Do you feel, sometimes, like you are consumed?
My mom is 74, and she sounds a lot like you. She's ok with being solitary most of the time, but this is starting to wear on her. She's been alone all year, we all (her kids) live 6-12 hours away. She misses her siblings, who are all in Kansas, and not getting any younger! It's interesting to see how the different generations of our family have been dealing with this. We have three millennials who seem to be taking it all in stride, while the 10 (now 11) year old has been losing his mind, literally flopping all over the house opining about all of the "losts" this year. Halloween was hard. My husband and I are just trying to stay afloat running our business, and dealing with no school/part-time school, working with kid in tow, or leaving him at home and dealing with the guilt and constant phone calls to make sure he's ok, and dealing with aging parents from afar who are going through their own stuff, they need help, but we don't want to kill them in the process. And mom, who lost her husband of more than 50 years less than a year before she got shut in. She's been a trouper, but if we can't get to her soon, we're all going to lose our minds. And forget friends, our social circle is the adult child who lives down the road and shows up at the house often with her husband. Cards, we play a lot of cards. They've even taken to gambling while playing, lol.
I feel you Jo, hang in there. I think the closer we get to the end of this, the harder it gets. I literally have that feeling like when I was a kid counting the days to Christmas. Only I don't know how many days are left. And I am seriously wondering what the new normal will look like in this country. Because it's not going to be the same. Ever. After 9/11 life as we knew it changed. This is going to change us even more. I am hoping (and working) for better.
One conclusion that I came to after the angst of yesterday is that it's ok to have a day here and there to wallow in the grief of all of the "losts", but we need pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and keep moving. So that's today's focus. I've also made a personal promise to myself that I'm going to be more kind to people, no matter how much it hurts. I'm not perfect, I can be as snarky as the best of them, so a constant work in progress over here. But I'm going to pull this off it kills me! Good luck to you, and keep going. It's going to get better.
Thanks so much for this posting, Mr, Rather. I am in the middle of reading your book which is keeping me calm and getting to know so much about your thoughts as a historian and a real patriot, an American, not a journalist. I posted a quote from your book on FB which I repeat here and touched me deeply:
Dan Rather steps away from his journalist role and speaks to us as an American.
“I worry that our nation today suffers from a deficit of empathy, and this is especially true of many in positions of national leadership. It is a phenomenon that is born from, and that exacerbates, the broader divisions tearing at our republic. We see a rising tribalism along cultural, ethnic, economic class and geographic lines. And the responsibility for these divisions should fall more squarely on the shoulders of the powerful, those who need to be empathetic, than on those who need our empathy”
This Steady posting continues to show your empathy by sharing your pain making all of us feel more "together".
Thank you and I highly recommend to all Steady folks and beyond to read Dan's "What Unites Us". It lowers blood pressure. SMILE
I’m one of the lucky ones! I am an introvert who lives in Alaska and have always sought out the road less traveled. So, for me, the pandemic hasn’t brought much change to my lifestyle. I do have, however, have sympathy for those who have had their life upended.
I am an emergency room nurse in Northern California. I am divorced and my daughter is grown and on her own busy living her best life. Thus, I live alone.
For many who are divorced, windowed, or single by choice this pandemic has been hard. This isolation feels so much heavier. I am generally happy and content with my own company, but I still have times of loneliness.
As difficult as this past year has been at work, I am forever grateful to have a career that gets me out of the house and around people 3 days per week. I see my coworkers and the general public. I can talk and even touch people (it’s part of the job). Yes, before I was vaccinated I was fearful of getting sick. But, a full year later that includes a stint volunteering in New York, I am happy to have never knowingly gotten sick.
I long for the day when going out with friends is safe again and visiting far away places is something that doesn’t require tests and quarantines. Until then, I’ll be grateful to have a job that brings me into contact with other people.
With my two vaccine doses on board, I was finally able to gather in my home with my daughter, her mate, and my grandson who seems to have grown taller. We shared great bear HUGS and a meal of pizza, salad and beer accompanied by
a lively discussion of Brady and Mahomes. Momentous.
Ah. The hug. Of all that I missed in this year, now, of isolation is giving hugs. I am a hugger of family, friends, colleagues, the people I volunteer to help, and even the people who headed the agencies that provided funding for our disability research and the occasional Congressman. Never obtrusive or unwanted of physical touch, but always inclusive in the way that permited us two to touch each other beyond a wave or smile or greeting. For I think hugging causes us, for the moment, to be within a breath's reach of each other's hearts and humanness. As this year ends and we are now vaccinated, I am re-evaluating many of the social things I thought were so important for me (us) and question whether, perhaps because of the excuse of age, that I (we) will restart or put in a place in my (our) mind as memories of something that was joyful, fun, vital, good for that time. I (we) have grown more comfortable and confident in our solitude and unfearing of quiet, time to think, reflect, connect with language more than with conversation. I (we) think I might choose more wisely for the connections, depth, and in-the-present returns I (we) may obtain from choosing. But, hugs, will take their rightful place though left latent by necessity. Thanks, Dan. Your column today spoke to many of us today and connected with differently.
It has been a long time. Period. I am tired of the isolation, trying to figure out what is real and what is smoke and mirrors. I am painting walls now in an effort to stay busy. And I just realized that I hate the color. I will try again tomorrow. Steady.
Sir, thanks so much. You make those of us who are alone feel connected.
I miss hugs most of all. My grandchildren and children live in different towns and states so we have not seen them in person for a year. Our lives are sterile without the physical comfort of hugs. My girlfriend and I stand outside her house to talk 10 feet away from each other and tear up when I leave without touching, we always always hug and kiss greetings and partings. But you do give hope. Your books went to 2 children and recommendations to several other friends. Thank you
This is a lovely, haunting piece.
The isolation is horrible. The need to touch or hug someone is huge. All we can do is keep doing what we are doing. The vaccine is helping us. Spring is coming. Wear your mask as long as is necessary- the hugs are coming!
Thank you for putting my feelings into words.
You are so right, Mr. Rather. I have a viewfinder to look outside my bubble, but I can't touch anything outside my bubble.
Your presence on my television was like that of a loving uncle when I was growing up. Please pass along my thanks to your children for “sharing” you with me for all those years.
My anxiety level is at its max. I know that because I had tears as I read this. I'm 78 and don't have time to feel lonely. And I'm not completely alone. I share my home with my daughter and son-in-law. I have animals. And I wasn't the most social person to begin with. I enjoyed my alone time in nature. But I'm missing my other children. I haven't seen them for more than a year. I miss my friends. I want my life back! I want to hug people. I want to dance. I want something as simple as watching Yuzuru Hanyu skate before a live audience. I want to get over being angry at how this country's leadership allowed this pandemic to kill so many of us including my sister.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Heartbreaking. Blessings and hugs to you.
Oh, please accept my virtual hug and feel free to pass on a couple of real ones to your daughter and son-in-law on my behalf. 👌
I can feel what you are. I'm getting confused at times with whether it is anxiety or constant alertness to all that is no longer within reach of my fingers or control through my voice. Do you feel, sometimes, like you are consumed?
My mom is 74, and she sounds a lot like you. She's ok with being solitary most of the time, but this is starting to wear on her. She's been alone all year, we all (her kids) live 6-12 hours away. She misses her siblings, who are all in Kansas, and not getting any younger! It's interesting to see how the different generations of our family have been dealing with this. We have three millennials who seem to be taking it all in stride, while the 10 (now 11) year old has been losing his mind, literally flopping all over the house opining about all of the "losts" this year. Halloween was hard. My husband and I are just trying to stay afloat running our business, and dealing with no school/part-time school, working with kid in tow, or leaving him at home and dealing with the guilt and constant phone calls to make sure he's ok, and dealing with aging parents from afar who are going through their own stuff, they need help, but we don't want to kill them in the process. And mom, who lost her husband of more than 50 years less than a year before she got shut in. She's been a trouper, but if we can't get to her soon, we're all going to lose our minds. And forget friends, our social circle is the adult child who lives down the road and shows up at the house often with her husband. Cards, we play a lot of cards. They've even taken to gambling while playing, lol.
I feel you Jo, hang in there. I think the closer we get to the end of this, the harder it gets. I literally have that feeling like when I was a kid counting the days to Christmas. Only I don't know how many days are left. And I am seriously wondering what the new normal will look like in this country. Because it's not going to be the same. Ever. After 9/11 life as we knew it changed. This is going to change us even more. I am hoping (and working) for better.
One conclusion that I came to after the angst of yesterday is that it's ok to have a day here and there to wallow in the grief of all of the "losts", but we need pull ourselves up by the bootstraps and keep moving. So that's today's focus. I've also made a personal promise to myself that I'm going to be more kind to people, no matter how much it hurts. I'm not perfect, I can be as snarky as the best of them, so a constant work in progress over here. But I'm going to pull this off it kills me! Good luck to you, and keep going. It's going to get better.
Thanks so much for this posting, Mr, Rather. I am in the middle of reading your book which is keeping me calm and getting to know so much about your thoughts as a historian and a real patriot, an American, not a journalist. I posted a quote from your book on FB which I repeat here and touched me deeply:
Dan Rather steps away from his journalist role and speaks to us as an American.
“I worry that our nation today suffers from a deficit of empathy, and this is especially true of many in positions of national leadership. It is a phenomenon that is born from, and that exacerbates, the broader divisions tearing at our republic. We see a rising tribalism along cultural, ethnic, economic class and geographic lines. And the responsibility for these divisions should fall more squarely on the shoulders of the powerful, those who need to be empathetic, than on those who need our empathy”
This Steady posting continues to show your empathy by sharing your pain making all of us feel more "together".
Thank you and I highly recommend to all Steady folks and beyond to read Dan's "What Unites Us". It lowers blood pressure. SMILE
Steady Dan, Steady. This too will pass.
Your posts are helping to keep me steady for sure. Today I get my first vaccination and I tell myself "courage".
Thanks Dan, Go Knicks ;-)
I’m one of the lucky ones! I am an introvert who lives in Alaska and have always sought out the road less traveled. So, for me, the pandemic hasn’t brought much change to my lifestyle. I do have, however, have sympathy for those who have had their life upended.
I am an emergency room nurse in Northern California. I am divorced and my daughter is grown and on her own busy living her best life. Thus, I live alone.
For many who are divorced, windowed, or single by choice this pandemic has been hard. This isolation feels so much heavier. I am generally happy and content with my own company, but I still have times of loneliness.
As difficult as this past year has been at work, I am forever grateful to have a career that gets me out of the house and around people 3 days per week. I see my coworkers and the general public. I can talk and even touch people (it’s part of the job). Yes, before I was vaccinated I was fearful of getting sick. But, a full year later that includes a stint volunteering in New York, I am happy to have never knowingly gotten sick.
I long for the day when going out with friends is safe again and visiting far away places is something that doesn’t require tests and quarantines. Until then, I’ll be grateful to have a job that brings me into contact with other people.
Oh...and baseball is back. Go Giants!
With my two vaccine doses on board, I was finally able to gather in my home with my daughter, her mate, and my grandson who seems to have grown taller. We shared great bear HUGS and a meal of pizza, salad and beer accompanied by
a lively discussion of Brady and Mahomes. Momentous.
Ah. The hug. Of all that I missed in this year, now, of isolation is giving hugs. I am a hugger of family, friends, colleagues, the people I volunteer to help, and even the people who headed the agencies that provided funding for our disability research and the occasional Congressman. Never obtrusive or unwanted of physical touch, but always inclusive in the way that permited us two to touch each other beyond a wave or smile or greeting. For I think hugging causes us, for the moment, to be within a breath's reach of each other's hearts and humanness. As this year ends and we are now vaccinated, I am re-evaluating many of the social things I thought were so important for me (us) and question whether, perhaps because of the excuse of age, that I (we) will restart or put in a place in my (our) mind as memories of something that was joyful, fun, vital, good for that time. I (we) have grown more comfortable and confident in our solitude and unfearing of quiet, time to think, reflect, connect with language more than with conversation. I (we) think I might choose more wisely for the connections, depth, and in-the-present returns I (we) may obtain from choosing. But, hugs, will take their rightful place though left latent by necessity. Thanks, Dan. Your column today spoke to many of us today and connected with differently.
It has been a long time. Period. I am tired of the isolation, trying to figure out what is real and what is smoke and mirrors. I am painting walls now in an effort to stay busy. And I just realized that I hate the color. I will try again tomorrow. Steady.