Apparently it takes a pandemic to get me to write a new blog post…
I should be wrapping up a family trip to Ireland right now. The whole gang had synchronized our calendars. My dad’s eternal question, “When are we all going to Ireland?” finally had an answer. That was until COVID-19 seeped into our lives.
Given where things are now, it is strange to think that just a month ago we were on the phone with Jimmy and Helen, our Irish cousins, planning day trips and nights out. I couldn’t wait for my brother Matt and his family to finally meet Jimmy and Helen. COVID-19 was in the news, we even joked about the need to quarantine while we were there. Helen quipped, “Ah sure, that’s no problem. Ye can stay at Tess’s place.”
Eleven days after that phone call, Trump announced travel bans and overnight the idea of a pleasure trip became ridiculous. Helen reported panic-buying and growing fear in Ireland. They were told that they were on pace to be the next Italy. Museums and historic sites closed, pubs closed. I waited for Aer Lingus to cancel our flight so I could get a refund. That happened on St. Patrick’s Day.
We will get there later this year, I say now. In a few months, that statement could seem as naive as our light-hearted discussion of minibus tours, pints at Tuohy’s, and quarantines seem today. Right now, all I want is for there to be enough ventilators and for everyone I love, here and there, to stay safe and sound.