Hope
My husband and I had our first night out in over a year in a physically distanced, but indoor dining situation. We went to a spot we love - a little, intimate place with dark, burnt orangey walls, ferrous-stained concrete floors with these glorious cracks filled with rust, and of course a terrific menu.
The servers all wore masks, and all the patrons did too until served. Between courses we masked up again, and were all more than six feet apart from other tables. To add a bit of security, I've been fully vaccinated, but more important ... it has been two weeks since Kevin had received his first shot. By now he has built antibodies, and studies have shown even with the first of what will be two doses, he's protected from severe illness.
So we took a chance. We went out to support one of our favorite little places, and to just ... be.
We followed all the guidance. And as we sat there, eating our food and chatting, I watched my husband just ... I don't know. I watched him ... god, it's so hard to assign a word to it. I guess "hope" is the closest. Yeah, that'll have to do. It's a simple but sublime thing, hope. But I got to see it tonight in the man I love the most.
We're close. We really are. Even with the variants, even with the mutations prevalent in all RNA viruses, we're close.
Allow for hope. We're almost there.
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